


Blood Adrenaline

by Wheezefeeds



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Soulmates, The Try Guys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-03-01 23:18:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13305456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wheezefeeds/pseuds/Wheezefeeds
Summary: In a world where one soulmate's heartbeat affects the other's, Shane has yet to find the person who keeps making his chest pound.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm not sure how long this will be yet, and this first chapter is just a short little thing just to get this out there, haha.  
> Not beta read, but I hope you enjoy~

There were a lot of things that Shane didn't believe in that most people would consider to be 'supernatural'. Ghosts, demons, spirits, and anything else that there wasn't genuine, concrete evidence of, to give a few examples. He just didn't find himself capable of putting faith into things that were so unlikely. After all, most 'proof' that people gave for ghosts consisted of things that could easily have other, far more natural causes; usually the wind. 

Soulmates, however, were a mostly unexplainable phenomenon that he found himself unable to doubt. They were ingrained in human culture, and all scientists conclusively held the opinion that they were undoubtedly real. Nobody could exactly say how, and it was often credited to be something beyond human understanding. Shane wasn't sure how true that was - science likely just needed to advance further before an explanation was found - but he accepted that common explanation. For now. 

Oh yes, he believed in soulmates. How could he not, when he had one of his own and felt the proof of their existence almost every day? It certainly wasn't _his_ heart rate that was causing his chest to pound and his nerves to heighten when he was just trying to enjoy a relaxing evening vegging on his own couch. He knew this for a fact, considering he'd consulted a doctor, just to be sure there wasn't actually something wrong with him.

But no, the doctor had said - it was just his soulmate. The nervous bastard. Shane considered himself to be a decently mellow guy. He didn't scare easy, and had a nice, slow resting heart rate.

Of course his soulmate would be someone apparently prone to high anxiety situations. Or maybe they just loved exercise. Or sex. 

Shane didn't frequently engage in any of these things. He enjoyed the occasional spooky movie, but only the good jumpscares really ever got to him. He only exercised when forced to, and as for the sex, well, occurrences could be a bit more numerous.

The most truly unfortunate thing about the whole situation though, besides the anxiety, adrenaline, or general discomfort that came with unnecessary rises in heart rate, was that he had _no idea_ who his soulmate even was. He had absolutely no way of figuring out who was causing this.

One part of himself couldn't stop being annoyed by it. Really, it was nothing but an inconvenience the majority of the time. Unless something was happening, Shane had no other way to connect with his soulmate, since their heart rate would be _normal_. 

He supposed it could be convenient if he actually knew who was on the other side of their connection. Surely, it was a good indicator if they were in danger. But what could he do if he didn't know who they were? It wasn't like he'd be able to do anything to help them if they actually needed it. 

He wouldn't admit it, but the idea of his own heartbeat affecting his soulmate quelled his annoyance, just slightly. After all, if they _were_ scared, or in danger, then perhaps having a soothing rhythm on the other end helped. 

Of course, the faster beat tended to take over both parties, but the whole business was unpredictable to being with. Shane would run with whatever beliefs he allowed himself. 

He _would_ like to find them someday, though. Unfortunately, he hadn't had any luck so far. It was a bit difficult, since the only clue was heart rate. And, as far as clues went, it wasn't the most descriptive one. He often wished he could have been offered something more; a name, for example, would be just lovely.

But no, all Shane had was a heartbeat that was not his own pounding in his chest. 

He supposed things could be worse. _He_ could be the one at fault for all of this.

He was certainly going to give his soulmate hell about it whenever - if ever - they met. For now though, he waited. He graduated college, and eventually found his way to California for work. 

He'd never expected to have a job this ridiculous.

~~~~~~~~~~

Buzzfeed, for some reason, had found him to be a nice fit for a new intern, and had taken him on almost immediately. He definitely could have ended up saddled with a worse job, and was thankful when they eventually hired him as a full time employee. 

Slowly, he developed his place in the company, filming the 'It's Personal' series, and joining in on 'Test Friends'.

One of those was definitely worse for his health than the other. They always said all those diets and workout regimes were good for you, but Shane definitely wasn't made for them. He cheated far more frequently than the others ever did, despite the consequences. (He never complained about that cheerleader outfit, though.)

Ryan Bergara, however, had a different approach to these activities. He stuck to things with a much greater determination than Shane, but was more prone to complaining. 

Honestly, he had initially been surprised when they started growing closer as friends. At first glance, it hadn't seemed like they would mesh together well. Ryan was the unwavering believer, and Shane was skeptical of almost everything that came out of his mouth.

He'd told the man so once, and had received only an incredulous laugh in response. 

He supposed he could appreciate that.

"Shane," the man called for his attention, practically cornering him at the coffee machine. 

"Ryan?" he asked in reply, raising an eyebrow as he took a sip of his tea. Really, it was far too hot for sipping, but he enjoyed the vibe it gave him, and knew for a fact that if nothing else, it pissed Ryan off. 

He waited calmly, although the heart in his chest was pounding too fast to match his own emotions. He'd grown used to it by now though, so he simply had to remain stoic as he waited for the other man to speak.

"I need a co-host," Ryan finally said, the words coming out in a rush with one single breath. He looked a little desperate, and Shane's eyebrows raised just a bit closer to his hairline at the sight of it.

"For your new show? What about Brent?"

Ryan sighed, rubbing one hand down his face. "He can't do it anymore. He has other projects he needs to work on, and since he quit on me, I'm down a man and need to find someone before next week." 

"And you're ... asking me to do it?"

The man nodded once. "If you can?"

Shane studied him for just a moment. Out of all the people Ryan could have called on, he found himself to be a surprising choice. It tugged at him a bit though, and he couldn't stop himself from wondering if he was a first choice, or only a last resort. "You do know I don't believe in ghosts and shit, right?"

Ryan huffed. "Of course I do," he grumbled in annoyance, rolling his eyes. His expression softened a bit, though. "Honestly, that's mainly why I'm asking you." 

"You want to bring a skeptic around on little ghost hunts?" he asked, chuckling at the idea. 

The man ignored the insult, leaving only a slight downwards turn of his lips to show that he'd caught it. "Yes. I mean, if we see something that you can't come up with an explanation for, then that makes it even better!"

A reasonable explanation. And, Shane couldn't deny that it sounded like fun. He was a bit eager to see if Ryan could find a place truly 'haunted' enough to make him a believer as well. He was nothing if not an open-minded man, after all.

"Why else are you asking me?"

"Huh?"

He smiled. "You said that's 'mainly' why you were asking me," he repeated, gently reminding Ryan of his own words. He was only teasing, obviously, but he couldn't help it if he was a bit curious.

"Oh, well, you're my friend."

Shrugging, he offered only an "alright," in agreement, giving no outward sign that he was effected by those words. He'd be losing their game, then. Their friendship was built on harmless insults, after all. Internally though, his heart was beating quicker than normal and this time, he was pretty sure it wasn't his soulmate's fault.

He couldn't help it if being acknowledged as someone's friend made him happy. Especially when the person who'd said it was Ryan, who seemed to love tossing around insults as easily as he breathed.

They were similar to one another in that regard. Perhaps it's why they'd always got along so well.

Ryan's excitement was visible across his entire face as he looked up at the taller man. "Seriously? You'll do it?"

"Yeah, why not? Sounds fun. I'll probably get to see you shit yourself from fear at some point anyway, so that's exciting."

"Shut the hell up, Shane."

He tipped his cup of tea at the man with a pleased grin, before walking back towards his desk, talking over his shoulder as he requested to be texted whenever he was needed. 

Honestly, Shane was eager to do this. He certainly didn't believe in ghosts or demons, but Ryan was devoted to his research of genuine facts, and even planned on including the crimes of serial killers in the Unsolved series. He was undeniably intrigued. 

The heartbeat in his chest had fallen steady, but thoughts were racing in his head at a pace too fast to match. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually struggled to write this chapter, and I'm still not 100% happy with it, but I just want to get it posted at this point, haha.  
> There's a total chapter count now, because I actually sat down and planned this fic out (which I've never done before) so I hope you all stick around to see what's in store for the boys c;  
> Anyway, please enjoy! <3

He'd said the show would be something fun to do - and he hadn't been proven wrong yet - but what Shane hadn't considered was exactly how popular Ryan's new creation would become. Buzzfeed tended to get a lot of views on the majority of their videos anyway, either because of previously garnered popularity - see; Try Guys - or clickbait.

Yes, he worked there, but he wasn't going to deny that. Not privately, at least.

Buzzfeed Unsolved had neither of those things. Perhaps the allure of death, murder, and ghosts called to more of the population than he'd initially thought. Although, it had also been heavily pointed out that people just enjoyed listening to him and Ryan argue about the validity of theories.

He supposed that was reasonable. Shane quite enjoyed arguing with the other man, after all. He had no issues with continuing to do so, if it pleased the masses. And, for all of Ryan's complaints, Shane knew that he enjoyed it too.

Few people had such an innate ability to take and throw back insults like Ryan. It really was quite impressive. 

But, whether it was their personalities, the show itself, or some combination of both, they were forced to come to terms with the fact that so much was now desired of them. Multiple new social media pages had to be created and monitored, a secondary show came about, which was devoted to Q and A's about previous episodes, and _merch_. Shane couldn't believe so many people wanted a shirt with '(wheeze)' written on it, but damn they just kept asking, and so they were doing their best to deliver. 

All in all, Shane had been feeling a bit awed by the circumstances lately. 

He knew that was nothing compared to how Ryan - the one who'd actually put all the work in - felt, though. Shane had simply joined because he'd been asked, and it seemed like something fun to do. He hadn't been the one to devote so much time and energy.

Movement at his side drew Shane's attention away from the monitor he'd been staring at, and he raised one eyebrow at Ryan, who had turned in his chair. 

"Eugene wants to ask us something," he said, stretching his arms out in front of himself as he spoke. 

"Well, that's probably not a good thing, is it?"

Ryan laughed, shaking his head. "No, probably not." Whenever any of the Try Guys wanted to 'ask something', it generally meant that they wanted to do something that would be inappropriate or uncomfortable for the rest of the office. 

Of course, Shane had a relatively thick skin. There wasn't much he'd say no to doing on camera, but being dragged into their antics without warning could sometimes be a bit of a hassle. They tended to go all out, especially when Eugene was the one leading the way. 

"Did he say what he wanted?" The answer was probably 'no'.

"Nope." Figured. "He just emailed me to ask if both of us were around, and to not leave until he could talk to us." 

"Spooky," he chuckled, causing Ryan to laugh along as well once again. They were definitely about to be roped into some sort of mess.

Luckily for Eugene, the day was nowhere near over, so he had plenty of time to make he way to the part of the office where Ryan and Shane's desks sat. Unfortunately for Shane, it wasn't until around lunch, right when he was considering going to get something to eat, that the man finally approached them. 

"Hello, boys," he greeted with a smile that seemed far too excited. Shane had half expected Keith, Zach, and Ned to be along with him for ... whatever this was, but Eugene was alone. 

"Hey," he heard Ryan return, and watched as the man pulled his headphones down to hang around his neck. 

"So I have a question for you both."

Shane had thought about it since he'd heard that Eugene would be stopping by, but he still couldn't think of something he would need to ask both him and Ryan. He supposed that it could have something to do with Unsolved, but he also had no idea what that would be. Their two shows didn't exactly mesh together well.

"Well, ask away," Shane nodded, spinning his chair around to properly face the other man.

"We need to drink."

Ryan sputtered a laugh, and Shane cocked his head to the side. "I don't think that's a question," he hummed.

Crossing his arms, Eugene huffed. "You didn't let me finish, you smartass." 

"Why do you need to drink?"

"Okay, well, listen. Me and the guys are doing our next episode on soulmates and different things that effect the heartbeat besides, y'know, emotions and shit. Drinking changes your heart rate, ergo, we need to drink." 

Ryan frowned slightly. "Why are you asking us about this? Shane and I haven't met our soulmates." 

No, they hadn't met yet, but Shane was definitely not any less aware of their presence. The changes of heart rate, in fact, have seemed to only grow more sporadic recently. He couldn't help but wonder what exactly they were doing all of the time. He'd considered asking Ryan for his opinion, but that seemed strange. The beat of a soulmate's heart was meant to be private, save for emergencies, and Ryan certainly hadn't talked about his own, besides mentioning that he had one. So, Shane had remained silent on the matter, brooding about it in private.

"Neither have Eugene or Zach," Shane muttered, leaning in closer to Ryan like it was a secret, as if he wasn't speaking loud enough for the other man to hear anyway.

"But we have them. And Keith and Ned are married to theirs, so it'll be fine. We're just looking at our own hearts, anyway."

"So you need us for this too?"

"Well..." Eugene mused, dragging out the word, "Instead of us going out to random bars, they want us to do supervised drinking so they can measure our heart beats all night, so we need to stay here."

"Okay," Ryan replied, nodding once as the man paused in his story, waiting for him to continue on. Shane, for his part, remained quiet as he waited.

"Drinking here alone isn't much fun, so I though, wouldn't it be more fun to throw an office party?"

"I still don't understand what we have to do with this," Shane replied suspiciously, leaning back in his chair.

"Nobody does anything for our show anymore," Eugene explained with a laugh. "They're tired of us, but I bet a celebration for Buzzfeed's newest 'most popular' would get them to hang around." His grin was sly, and suddenly Shane understood exactly what he'd wanted.

"Ah, you just want to profit off of our success, then?" he asked, barely keeping himself from laughing. 

"Wait, seriously?" Ryan said, his eyebrows raised high. 

"Seriously."

"Ryan, are you going to just turn down an opportunity to flaunt your own success?" Shane teased.

"I'm not flaunting shit, dude." 

"Well, I certainly won't deny you the chance to get wasted at work," he said with a shrug, turning back to face Eugene. 

Ryan sighed, rubbing his face with one hand. "As if anybody here would turn down any opportunity to drink."

"So we can do it?"

Shane laughed. "You'd just do it anyway," he said, and caught Ryan's nod of agreement out of the corner of his eye. 

Seeming pleased to have been successful, Eugene grinned. "Well gentlemen, thank you very much-" he began, before Ryan interrupted.

"Don't look so smug," he accused, and Shane snorted at his tone.

"And I'll send out an email to everyone once we get this thing ready," he finished, as though he hadn't even been interrupted before heading back to where his own desk waited. 

Ryan watched him leave, before turning to face Shane. "We have to deal with this now?" he asked, sounding particularly exasperated. 

"Looks like it, buddy," he laughed. 

"We're the cover story for a Try Guys shoot."

"Like you don't plan on going along with it and getting drunk," he criticized. 

"Oh, of course I do," Ryan immediately conceded, effortlessly pulling laughter out of the both of them before they each turned back to their own computers.

~~~~~~~~~~

It was almost a week before a message popped up in Shane's email announcing an office party, all alcohol heavily advertised. It was really ridiculous, when he thought about it, how easy it was to get their coworkers to show up to events. 

Alcohol and food were all they ever needed, baby. He got the suspicion that this 'cover story' was more legitimate than Eugene had let on. It was true that whenever they attempted to play some sort of prank on the people in the office, their coworkers got a little annoyed, but nobody had ever turned down the opportunity to party. 

But either way, Shane didn't really care. Whether people wanted to congratulate him and Ryan on Unsolved, that was up to them. He certainly wasn't bragging about its success; he hadn't even made it!

Ryan did all of the work, and Shane was just there to tag along and bitch at him for being so spooked by the wind. 

Fake or real though, Shane was quite looking forward to this little office celebration. He enjoyed any opportunity to see his friends outside of work. (He promptly ignored the fact that they would still be in the office, and that _some_ of them _were_ currently working.)

When he showed up - relatively early - Kieth and Zach both already looked trashed. "The party hasn't even started yet," he chuckled, walking up behind them both.  

They turned, grinning widely and oh yes, they were so drunk. "One of the stars has finally arrived," Zach cheered, raising his arms in celebration, and sloshing the liquid in his cup in the process. 

"Whoa, watch it there," Shane teased, taking a step back from _that_ catastrophe waiting to happen. 

"Where's Ryan?" Keith cut in, seemingly unaware of how dangerously close Zach had come to spilling his liquor everywhere. 

Shane shrugged one shoulder. "Assuming he still plans on showing up, he should be on the way." Honestly, they hadn't talked much since they'd both last left work, but he didn't doubt that the man would be showing up soon enough. He'd sent an image, about an hour ago, of a beer accompanied by the text _'pregaming'_.

He'd laughed, and sent back _'Scandalous. This is a professional event.'_

_'We won't fit in at all, then.'_

If anything, they would probably fit in a little too well, especially if Ryan had begun drinking before he'd even arrived. Shane, not ready to be left behind, went to pour himself a drink as he waited for the other man to make his appearance. It seemed a bit odd that Keith had automatically expected him to know why Ryan wasn't here yet, but Shane tried to not dwell on it too much. They were friends, after all, and it was reasonable to assume they'd have a general idea of what one another were up to, right?

Slowly, as he worked through his first two drinks, a steady stream of people began to arrive and filter into the open space of the office that had been designated for the party. Shane kept his eyes on the entrance even as he chatted, and eventually, he saw Ryan walk in. 

If his heart beat just a bit faster at the sight, well, that was something he could blame on his soulmate. They were always fucking up his BPM.

He strolled up to the other man, stealing him away before he could properly greet anyone else, and shoved a beer into his hand. Ryan blinked down at it, and then up at Shane. "Thanks, pal," he laughed, seeming caught off guard but very, very pleased as he smiled brightly and took a sip. 

_thump thump, thump thump._

"No problem," Shane returned with an easy grin. "Now that both of the boys are here, the party can really begin."

"Oh? It looks like it's in full swing already," Ryan hummed, lifting himself up to look around Shane, who had blocked a lot of his view when he'd approached the man. He was tall, what could he do? But oh, wasn't it endearing seeing Ryan up on his tiptoes, rather than just stepping slightly to the side?

_thump thump._

Maybe he'd had too much to drink already.

"Is Eugene trashed yet?" Ryan asked, settling back down on his feet and looking up at Shane once again.

He nodded easily. "They were all already _gone_ when I got here," he replied with a laugh

"Oh shit, really?" he laughed, and looked as Shane pointed the guys out across the floor, currently hiding in the corner of the room with blood pressure monitors cuffed around their arms. Ned also seemed to be in the middle of a breathalyzer test. 

"They said this party was a 'cover', but they're not even hiding what they're doing," Ryan said. 

Shane just shrugged. "Well, either they just wanted people to have a reason to show up, or they're too drunk to care." 

"Which one do you think?"

"Honestly?" At Ryan's nod, he hummed in thought. "I think I don't give a shit," he continued with a cheeky smile. 

"You fuck," the man sighed, shaking his head, although he couldn't completely hide the laughter that bubbled, as if unbidden, from his chest. They fell silent for a few moments, both of their gazes focused on the group across the room and their ears filled with the din of music and too-loud voices.

"So," Ryan finally interrupted, "I just found this out today, but I think a party celebrating us - well, not _us_ but you know - would be a good place to tell you."

Shane, promptly ignoring the hang-up about _us_ , because now was not the time, turned his head and raised an eyebrow. "Tell me what?"

"My plans for the new supernatural season got approved, and we got a new budget too. We can start filming in two or three weeks."

"They gave us a raise?" Shane asked, a smile visible in his face and through his voice, past the joking demeanor. 

"We've got spending money, baby," Ryan laughed. "And I've got plans for it."

"Now that worries me."

"Don't be."

"No, I'm absolutely worried. You're going to buy some stupid ghost contraption, aren't you?" That spiritbox gave him nothing but headaches and nightmares, and he'd already become tired of it the first time Ryan turned it on. 

"They're not stupid," Ryan protested, crossing his arms as petulantly as he could manage without endangering the drink he was holding. 

Shane nodded, satisfied with that answer. He loved it when Ryan admitted he was right, even when he was attempting to be argumentative. "So what are they, then?"

"I'm hoping I can find some good motion detector lights," the man relented, accepting his loss with ease.

"Are you looking for ghosts or people, Ryan?" Shane asked.

"Obviously ghosts," he replied, as if was the dumbest question he'd ever heard. It really wasn't.

"How is something you can't even seen going to set off a motion detector?" He heard the man sigh, and couldn't help but to laugh. This is what he enjoyed more than anything. This continuous back and forth. Of course he knew what explanation the man was going to give, but he just liked to pull it out of Ryan, who spewed the words with a satisfying frustration at how Shane was obviously just 'unwilling' to accept the truth.

They 'argued' about ghosts and the validity of whether or not they could set off motion detectors for a long while before Ned and Keith eventually came over and pulled them into the thick of the party. 

Things blurred after that, as Shane and Ryan both got lost in conversations with other coworkers. He occasionally found himself glancing around for the other man, but there was always someone coming up to keep him busy. They did cross each other's paths frequently though, and always caught one another's eyes across the room, keeping tabs on one another without ever getting close enough to properly interact.

It was ... comforting to know that Ryan was around. He was Shane's best friend, and despite the way that they may show their closeness - harsh words and dismissive insults - he enjoyed knowing that the man was close by. They orbited around one another far more than they used to. Shane wondered if it was because they'd grown used to abandoned buildings and small towns - places where keeping each other nearby was a safety measure taken to give the both of them some comfort. He still didn't believe in ghosts, but that didn't mean they weren't in danger of a beam or something falling on them. It was dangerous work, ghosthunting.

He also immediately ignored the small feeling in his chest that claimed safety wasn't the only reason he kept Ryan so close. 

As the night went on, the drinks piled up, and Shane lingered as people slowly began to take their leave. Last time he'd checked, his phone had said it was after midnight, and he was sure that at this point, there was no way he was going to be able to avoid a hangover the next morning. 

He wandered, bidding goodbye to the people who caught him as they left, but was ultimately looking for Ryan, who he'd eventually ended up losing in the chaos. His heart kept him focused, his steps matching the quick beat of his soulmate. His soulmate who wasn't here. In that moment, he longed for them; to know them, and to taste the stability that came with truly knowing who his heart belonged to.

He finally found the man by the bar, seemingly deep in a conversation with Quinta. That wasn't surprising, since the two were pretty close as well. He considered not approaching, but found himself noticed as Quinta waved him over. Not one to squander an opportunity, Shane complied. His heart picked up slightly as he walked towards them, and the longing spiked again.

"Well, look who it is," Ryan said, a drunken grin wide on his face. He looked ... good. The alcohol brightened his cheeks and made him glow.

Oh, Shane was way too drunk for this. He definitely shouldn't have had those last few drinks. Being sober, he could easily ignore any stray and fleeting feelings that settled deep in his stomach whenever he glanced at his friend for a second too long. He cast the thoughts out of his mind by focusing on the pounding in his chest. 

"I was just about to head out," he murmured, leaning against the bar with one arm. 

"So soon?" Ryan teased, taking another sip from the beer he was currently nursing.

"How long were you planning on staying, Ryan?" he replied in kind.

The man laughed, loud and easy. "Not long."

He belatedly realized that Quinta had been the one to invite him into the conversation, but he'd gone and rudely ignored her. He turned to apologize, but when he looked, she'd gone. He hoped that he would remember to bring it up the next time they saw each other. 

Ryan, though, has always been good at drawing his attention, and Shane once again forgot about anything but the other man. "Did you get an Uber already?"

He shook his head, looking up at Shane through lidded eyes, his expression lazy.

"Want to share the ride?" He didn't exactly know why he offered, although he could make a good guess that it has something to do with wanting to spend more time together. They hadn't gotten to see much of one another during the party, after all. 

Ryan smiled. "Yeah, why not?" he agreed. 

They exited the party together, which drunk Shane didn't think too much about. They'd originally planned on having the driver drop Ryan off at his house first, but then he'd invited Shane in and, well, he  _was_ getting tired. He could easily crash on the other man's couch and give no complaints, even though he already knew he'd be too tall for the damn thing. 

They stumbled through the front door together, laughing about something that neither of them would remember the next morning, before Shane collapsed down onto the couch cushions. Ryan giggled and called him clumsy, and Shane laughed along as he fondly kicked the man out of his own living room.

"I need my beauty rest," he claimed.

"You've got another thing coming if you think passing out on my couch will make you beautiful."

"Get out, Bergara."

"Make me, Madej," the man retorted, even though he'd already made it halfway down the hallway to the bedroom, and showed no signs of turning back. 

~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, at who-knows-when-o'clock, Shane woke up to the sound of a coffee machine dripping loud and rhythmic into the pot. He rubbed his eyes, bleary and unwilling to open them all the way and face the brightness of day. His head hurt; a clear and obvious hangover from the night before. There was a crick in his neck and an ache in his legs that meant his body was very angry at him for sleeping on a too-small couch.

He heard someone shuffle around in the kitchen, and peeked over to see Ryan bent over his laptop, which was sitting open atop the counter. 

With a groan of discomfort, he forced himself into an upright sitting positing, and pulled his arms up above his head in a deep stretch that made his back pop loudly. 

"Don't break your spine, Big Guy," he heard from the kitchen, and saw Ryan looking at him.

"I'm trying to realign it," he grumbled, rolling his shoulders as he settled back down into the slight slouch he'd adopted by working at a desk all day. 

He heard a huff of laughter, but it was quiet. So Ryan was hungover too, then. "Coffee?" the man offered, waving one hand at the machine behind him, which was still dripping, although the pot was beginning to look rather full. 

Shane considered it as he brought himself to his feet, but eventually nodded once. He wanted to go home, shower, _brush his teeth_ , and maybe go back to sleep since this was his day off, but he didn't feel up to leaving yet. So, he accepted the offer, and maneuvered himself around Ryan's kitchen as he sifted through the man's cabinets for two mugs. 

He didn't seem to mind if Shane made a mess of his kitchen. Instead, he was focused on whatever he was reading on the laptop screen. 

"What are you looking at?" he asked as he poured coffee for the both of them.

"Plane tickets," Ryan hummed in reply, taking the offered mug with thanks. 

"For Unsolved?"

"We have a lot of traveling to do, my friend," Ryan chuckled, tapping at the screen with one finger as he took a sip of his coffee. 

"Oh?" Shane asked, his interest piqued as he leaned down to read what Ryan was attempting to point out. "London?"

He nodded. "There's three places there that I wanted to check out."

"Oh, we're making an adventure out of this?" Shane practically crowed, absolutely delighted with the idea. Traveling to different states to film in was fun, but going International was exciting. That fact that they were able to - allowed to - go this far with the show was amazing, and he was astounded that Ryan wasn't gloating more. It was something to be proud of.

"The boys are going to London," Ryan laughed, and maybe it wasn't obvious in his words, but Shane could see in the wide smile he wore just how happy the man was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking of a tentative update schedule (maybe every monday) but I'm not sure how close to that I'll stick, since I've never posted on a schedule before.   
> Please leave a comment and let me know what you think so far!   
> (I know that this was a lot of filler with just a taste of emotions, but I promise it'll start to pick up next chap. lol And yes, the timeline of where they go and when will be slightly different compared to irl) <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's Tuesday night so I'm only one day late on my posting schedule. That's not too bad, right?  
> This chapter also got longer than expected, so I hope you enjoy it!

Shane had it on good authority that traveling between states was complicated and tiring enough. Flying International was a whole different can of worms that he definitely wasn't ready to open at 9 P.M on a Monday evening. He'd already been at work all day, and just wanted to go home and relax. 

Ryan and the rest of the crew seemed to be in the same position though, dragging their suitcases behind themselves, all with lazy eyes and baggy hoodies - the epitome of plane ride comfort clothing. 

"Why are we here this late after work?" Ryan asked, once he'd made it to where Shane stood, waiting for him. He'd arrived earlier than necessary, but hadn't even gone through security, content instead to collapse in the nearest seat to wait in relative peace.

"Because this flight was cheaper," he immediately replied, his tone matter-of-fact and bored as he checked his watch for the time. He knew that Ryan was only asking because he regretted the decision that _he himself_ had made that morning after the office party, scrolling through flight options with Shane looking over his shoulder. 

Everyone had been alright with this choice at the time, but things always had a tendency to seem better in planning, compared to actually experiencing it in real life. This was definitely one of those times. He supposed it could be worse, though. It could have been an early morning flight, instead.

"Lets just get this over with so I can get on the plane and maybe sleep tonight," Ryan said with a sigh, gesturing to the check-in and security point with the free hand that wasn't holding his luggage.

"Alright," Shane chuckled at the exasperation carried in the man's tone, falling into place behind him as they walked. Everyone else in the airport was at least in the same position, with somewhere to be, but in no desire to actually make the journey there. 

Their group followed one another through the airport, making quiet conversation whenever they had to stop - which happened frequently enough in the security line. Eventually though, with time to spare, they made it to their gate. 

"Finally," Ryan sighed, dropping into the nearest chair that wasn't occupied already. At least he'd held the foresight to select an area that was relatively empty - as empty as an airport terminal could be, at least. Shane took the seat next to Ryan, and the crew were across from them, holding a conversation over one of the cameras that they'd recently needed to fix, due to a broken lens.

Shane ended up tuning them out, though. Instead, he turned his attention to the man next to him, who seemed content to lean back against the chair with his hat pulled down over his eyes.

Well, they couldn't have that, could they?

Feeling particularly mischievous, he slowly tucked one finger under the brim of the hat and lifted it upwards.

Ryan glared out of the corner of his eyes, which he barely even opened in the first place. "Stop that, you asshole," he grumbled, pushing his hat back down in defiance. 

Shane grinned, and just because he could, did it again. 

"Go fuck yourself," Ryan said, but there was no heat to it. Just annoyance at what was, admittedly, a very childish action. Shane counted it as a victory though, because the man didn't move his hat this time. 

"No sleeping on the job," he hummed.

"Not on the job yet," Ryan argued. Shane couldn't exactly argue with that, but he was reluctant to concede. It wasn't as if it was that late or anything, but he would rather find entertainment in bothering his friend over scrolling through his social media, which often had _too much_ to say. 

So what if he still had some of yesterday's emails left to answer? They were nowhere near as engaging as Ryan, and Shane would definitely fall asleep if he even _started_ reading through them. 

They chatted aimlessly, the conversation subdued by the exhaustion of a long day, last minute packing, and attempting to get to their gate with time to spare. To make it even better, the plane began boarding late. But eventually, their rows were called. Shane and Ryan both lingered behind once the crew left, having gotten the seats one row in front of them. 

Once on the plane, Ryan took the seat by the window, graciously leaving the one in the middle to Shane and his 'grasshopper legs'. "Don't get any leg cramps, Big Guy," he'd said, his smile teasing. 

"Planes are heightist," he murmured in reply, pushing his carry-on bag into the overhead bin.

Ryan, squinting his eyes in confusion, glanced up to stare at Shane's face. "Are you ... are you saying the plane is discriminating you?"

He supposed that was what he was saying, yes. Not his best material, if he were to be honest, but it was all he had in the moment. "Yeah," he said, breathing out a gentle, nearly embarrassed laugh. 

"Wow. You should write a complaint."

"Start a protest."

Ryan grinned. "Make a sign. Start waving it around once the plane takes off," he said, waving his hands in a mimic of the motion. 

He settled into the seat, stretching his legs out far enough that his feet were tucked underneath the chair in front of him. To be fair though, most people could do so, including Ryan, so it didn't say much other than planes were just cramped in general. "When's out shoot start?" he asked, once he'd gotten relatively comfortable. 

"Well, we'll get there sometime in the evening tomorrow, London time, so we're going to stay in the City for the rest of the night before going to Hampstead. So we can uh, sleep off the jet lag all morning or something."

"And be up with the ghosties _all_ night, baby," Shane crowed, leaning his head back in an attempt to see the front of the plane. People were still mulling around though, looking for their row or shoving their things into the bins, so he wasn't having much luck.

He had never been particularly fond of long flights, but then again, who was? They didn't even get any layovers or chances to stretch their legs. It was just one long, non-stop ride.

He, again, supposed it could be worse. He could be _not_ going to England. 

They settled in for the flight and listened to the attendant's speech before Shane finally caved and began scrolling through the emails he'd dreaded sorting through and responding to. 

He was temporarily interrupted by Ryan who, very suddenly, leaned closer to his shoulder.

_thump thump_.

He looked up, startled by the unexpected contact, to find Ryan holding his phone up, recording a video in selfie mode. On the screen, Shane could see the man smiling ruefully at the way he'd jumped. 

"Want to tell the nighttime crew watching this what's up?" Ah, an Instagram story, then.

He raised an eyebrow. "It's not night everywhere, Ryan."

The man sighed and shook his head, but his grin hadn't faded. "Answer the question, you shit."

"Oh, right. We're on a plane!" he cheered - quietly, of course - and watched as Ryan tilted the phone just slightly so that the window was momentarily visible in the shot. 

"And where are we going?"

"Well," he hummed, stretching out the word, as if he were actually thinking about it.

"Oops," Ryan interrupted, tearing a sudden laugh out of Shane, "we can't tell you yet."

"You tease, Ryan," he jokingly admonished. 

"But," the man continued, "it is for Unsolved."

"So you'll find out, uh, soon, right?"

"Very soon."

Shane was laughing again once Ryan cut the recording and posted the story. They always liked to keep the things they were doing for Unsolved secret until the episodes were released, so it was a little surprising seeing his friend acting so cheeky about the fact that they were flying out for filming.

"Someone is going to analyze the interior of the plane and figure out exactly where we're going," Shane said, his tone lighthearted, but honestly, it _was_ a possibility. Obviously a very small and unlikely one, but it was still there.

Thinking so just made him feel like Ryan, though. Whenever aliens were brought in as a theory; 'well, you can't say it's zero percent, can you?' It was ridiculous.

"That's a mildly terrifying thought, you know," Ryan replied with a slight frown as he considered the idea. 

"Very stalker-esque," Shane agreed with a nod. 

Things fell silent between then after that as Ryan occupied himself with his phone, and Shane did the same with his emails. At some point, Ryan pulled his hoodie over his head and dozed off, his head lolling against the seat as he leaned towards the window, which had the shade pulled over it. Pointless, of course, considering that it was dark out.

Shane wasn't exactly sure when it happened, but he fell off into a light sleep as well, which carried him through the first few long hours of their flight.

~~~~~~~~~~

Finally, when Shane stepped onto the sturdy ground of an actual floor he breathed a seemingly long-held sigh of relief. He seriously just wanted to _move_ again. The flight had been over ten hours, and while he had fallen asleep for a good part of it, airplane seats certainly didn't stand in as good substitutes for a bed. 

Everyone seemed to share his opinion though, as they shifted from foot to foot at baggage claim. And miraculously, all of their luggage arrived safe and sound.

They stopped by the hotel first, checking in and dropping off their bags, as well as taking the opportunity to freshen up before going out in search of some real food. 

It was late, but they managed to find a peaceful looking pub on a street corner, which was - surprisingly - far busier than any of the establishments around it. Shane only saw that as a plus, though. On any other night, he'd be up for an evening of drinking and debauchery, but right now he was just hungry, and wasn't going to risk any hangovers when they'd be filming tomorrow. 

He sat across from Ryan at a small round table, shoved up against the back wall of the pub and practically hidden from the view of the front door. For being a bar, it was quiet, with only a handful of people scattered around either the counter or other tables. 

They both ordered burgers, seeing as they were quick and cheap, and practically devoured them as soon as the plates hit the table. 

Ryan shoved his last bite in his mouth and leaned back in the chair as he chewed, his gaze upon Shane. He felt it, but didn't look up to acknowledge it. It did make him feel nervous, or self-conscious, maybe. Then again, he and Ryan were always in close proximity, so _looking_ just came with the territory, didn't it? 

Finally, Ryan spoke. "Well," he began, leaning forward again and resting his arms on the table. "Welcome to London." 

Shane lifted his gaze then, and laughed. Welcome, indeed. "Thanks, buddy," he murmured, his chuckling unevenly lifting the tone of the words. 

Belatedly, he realized he _liked_ this. He'd known Ryan for years now, ever since they'd both began working for Buzzfeed, and they'd been friends for the majority of that. Nothing though, could compare to moments like this.

Normally, they were always on camera, or in a busy office, or in a crowded, public space. There was something so genuine and _soft_ about sitting across from one another in an old pub that they'd surely never step inside again, just talking. 

They were both an odd mix of tired and energized, stressed and calm. The muddled emotions begged for something familiar, and Shane found that in the conversation with his best friend, and the thumping in his chest.

It was his own heart this time.

~~~~~~~~~~

Not unlike most of the supposedly haunted places they visit for Unsolved, Ryan did not like the Spaniard's Inn as soon as he stepped through the doorway to find it dark inside. 

Shane found it a little ridiculous, since they'd been there earlier in the day to speak with the owner, and had done so in this very same room. The only thing different now was that the lights were off, and the aforementioned owner had left for the night. They'd done this routine many times now, and Shane still found himself baffled that Ryan could work himself into a panic so easily. 

At least for the moment he seemed to be doing alright. He was muttering to himself as he glanced around, his eyes darting from wall to wall rather erratically, but otherwise he seemed okay. He wasn't breathing heavily or speaking at a louder than necessary volume, so Shane was going to assume he wasn't driving himself mad quite yet. 

As fun as it was to tease Ryan for how easily he got scared, Shane didn't exactly enjoy watching it. Yes it was dumb; there was nothing to be afraid of in these places. But, it was still worrying seeing how frightened the man got. He didn't like seeing Ryan so stressed out, where he couldn't even properly hold a conversation anymore, and any slight noise made him jump. 

Honestly, Shane had to force himself to be calm during it all. If Ryan was scared of the ghosts, then he was scared for his friend's health and sanity. His heartbeat always picked up when they were on location.

He forced himself to ignore any ideas that might draw conclusions about who his soulmate was, though. Yes, it happened to go fast whenever Ryan was scared, but there were times during filming where it was calm and steady. Plus, there were more times than Shane could count where his heart rate elevated when he was just sitting at his desk, Ryan directly next to him, looking through emails, researching, or editing some video footage. Nothing worthy of a pounding chest. 

He made himself push away any soulmate related thoughts that could possibly include his best friend. They just weren't _logical_. The occurrences didn't add up, and Shane was a timid enough man that he could admit to being the cause of some of those elevated beats. 

Many of the places they went were old, after all. He couldn't deny that he had his share of worries while there; usually related to the floor or ceiling collapsing, or missing a step and falling down a narrow flight of stairs. It was also a bit of a rush - adrenaline flowing fast through his veins as they went on their little 'adventures' through abandoned hospitals and penitentiaries. 

Most of all, though, he worried about Ryan, and seeing him so scared after a flashlight's batteries went out would always - no matter if he denied it or not - send Shane's own heart racing.

He'd laugh, of course, because it was funny, but the underlying emotions were there. 

Was he in denial? Obviously not. There wasn't enough proof that Ryan was the cause of anything. In fact, it was probably about as likely as a ghost appearing in front of him at this inn. 

It struck an unplesant cord within him, but he just avoided thinking about that too. 

Ignoring everything and just being friends was easier and far more peaceful than entertaining fantastical ideas.

"So, are you gonna start spouting history soon?" he asked, shining his flashlight around the mass of tables and chairs that surrounded them. 

"Uh, yeah," Ryan replied. "Where do you think we should film this?"

Shane hummed as he looked around, and finally settled his gaze across the room. "There?" he asked, waving his light in that direction. "In front of the fireplace?"

"Seems mood appropriate," Ryan said in agreement. 

They dragged two large, ostentatious leather chairs from a table in the center of the room, and organized them in front of the pale brick hearth. The crew set up their cameras and Shane grabbed his mic from them, clipping it onto his shirt and adjusting the collar so it hung properly in order to best pick up his voice. 

He settled back comfortably in one of the chairs, leather squeaking as he rested one leg across the other. He watched as Ryan spoke with TJ, the both of them occasionally studying the camera shot, or flipping through the papers that contained this location's research notes. 

Eventually, Ryan came and sat down in the free chair. 

"Ready for this one?" Shane asked.

"I think so," he replied with a chuckle, although his gaze was focused behind the camera, waiting for the go ahead that meant filming had started. 

With a nod from TJ, he began. "This week on Buzzfeed Unsolved we're here in London to investigate the Spaniard's Inn as a part of our ongoing investigation into the question: are ghosts real?" 

Shane did his bit then, rolling his eyes and shaking his head, even as Ryan continued to speak. 

"This place is actually still open and serving customers,"

"We're just here during the spooky after-closing hours," Shane interjected with a grin.

Ryan sighed, shaking his head. "Are you done?"

"Yup," he replied, popping the P as he sunk further back into the chair. 

Besides getting to watch his friend almost shit himself from fear as they wandered these places, Shane highly enjoyed this; sitting around and listening to the history, any and all gruesome murders included. 

He also didn't have to hear it in Ryan's ridiculous theory voice, and that was just a pleasant bonus. 

"Okay, so, the Spaniard's Inn was built in 1585, and was named for its two landlords; Francesco and Juan Porero. It has a rich history, and even formed part of the entrance to the Bishop of London's lavish estate." 

"Wait, really?"

"Yeah, there's actually one of the original boundary stones out in the garden. But I haven't even gotten to the exciting parts yet."

"Oh, right, right, sorry," Shane said with a laugh, waving one hand in a gesture for Ryan to continue. 

"The Spaniard's Inn is also rumored to have been frequently visited by the famous highwayman Richard Turpin."

"Oh shit! I am ... _so_ much more invested in this place now."

Ryan laughed, leaning back with the suddenness of it. "I'm glad I can intrigue you with tales of highway robbery." 

He continued on, retelling the history of the pub, including the duel the two landlords held over a woman, Turpin's visits, its mentions in the writing of Charles Dickens and Bram Stoker, and how the owners calmed rioters with free drinks. 

"So, as you see," Ryan says as he reaches the end of his spiel, pointing to his phone where he'd been reading notes from, "this place is pretty interesting."

Shane nodded. "It's certainly lead a very exciting life." 

"Yeah. So uh, now to the fun part, then?" he asked, the sudden nervousness overtaking his tone, which Shane had long since learned meant his brain was beginning to eat itself while thinking about walking around in the dark. 

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm already having a great time."

"That's because you're a history nerd obsessed with criminal activity."

Shane shrugged, unable and unwilling to come up with any argument for that.

"Alright, Big Guy, get out of here and suit up."

Shane looked around the room, as if there was somewhere he was supposed to go, and finally settled his gaze on one of the pub tables behind the camera where their bag of 'ghost hunting' equipment laid unpacked, ready for them to use. "'Get out of here' where? It's five feet, Ryan," he chuckled. 

Ryan just glared at him out of the corner of his eyes, a humored smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. 

A sudden spike in his heart rate momentarily distracted Shane, the rush of blood leaving him dazed, but after a few moments of clearing his head, he turned back to the crew, ready to get this show on the road. 

They each strapped on their camera mounts, and got their mics checked out in order to make sure that everything was working properly before getting handed their trusty flashlights and being told to 'go off' by the crew.

~~~~~~~~~~

Shane followed behind Ryan as he walked around the tables of the pub, their steps creaking the old, apparently famously uneven wood and making the man tense up with what seemed like almost every step. 

They hadn't even seen or heard anything that _Ryan_ would say a ghost caused, and yet he was still freaking out already. 

"I don't like it in here."

"What are you talking about? It's a perfectly lovely eating establishment." 

"That's also dark and haunted." 

"Well," Shane said, dropping one shoulder and lifting his hands in a doubtful shrug. "It's dark."

"Ugh, shut up, Shane," Ryan grumbled, continuing forward. 

They spend a while touring the inside, and sit down at the bar for a long time, attempting to invoke the spirits and ghosts there. 

"Apparently people sitting at the bar say they've felt something grab at their clothes."

"Are they sure it's not some drunk guy just ... messing around?" 

Ryan stared at him for a moment. "I think they're pretty sure." 

He lifted his hands weakly in some form of surrender. "Alright, man," he said with a small laugh. Ryan was always so confident in any evidence that he thought lead to ghosts, sometimes it wasn't worth it to argue. He put in a few cents here or there - maybe more than a few - for videos, but it wasn't like Shane _enjoyed_ fighting with the man.

Honestly, that was why he preferred the True Crime series. The absurd alien theories were an annoyance, but Ryan usually didn't believe them either, no matter how hard he fought for that 0.1% chance of probability. They could agree on something there, and he'd much rather them be on the same page. 

Sometimes he wished he could be swept up into the supernatural world, just like Ryan, but no matter how open minded he tried to be, no compelling evidence had come along to convince him yet.

Although, maybe that was for the best. There had to be some voice of reason around to keep Ryan from having a heart attack just because the wind had whistled through a crack in the wall. 

When nothing came of sitting at the bar, except some anxious shuffling from the man next to him, they moved out to the gardens. 

"While there are plenty of reported signs of activity inside, it's actually more active _outside_. Juan was buried in the garden, so he's haunting around here. Turpin appears along the road sometimes, and there's also a woman in white who shows up in the garden. Some people think that she might have been one of his victims." 

"Is a pub really the most reliable source of ghost sighting information?" he mused as they wandered the gardens, shining their flashlights everywhere and nowhere, searching for something without knowing where to look.

"What?" Ryan asked, tilting his head to look up at Shane.

"I mean, everyone's probably really drunk, right?"

"You don't get drunk as soon as you walk through the door," Ryan replied incredulously. "Not everyone's getting trashed." 

"But are they really seeing ... uh," he chewed his bottom lip, trying to think of the proper term. "Full apparitions? Like, distinguishable features? Nowhere else we go claims that much. They're all just like, 'oh, we saw a shadow move weird down a hallway', not 'Dick Turpin is staring at me from beyond'." 

To his credit, Ryan actually laughed. "Maybe. I don't know, they could be."

They reached a clear area of the garden, and Ryan swept his flashlight's beam across the ground around himself. "Wanna reach out right here?" he asked, lightly waving the spirit box that he held in his free hand. 

Shane shrugged, and he watched as Ryan took that to be a yes and sat down in the short grass. "'M more worried about bugs than ghosts," he muttered as he did the same, folding his legs up in an attempt to get comfortable. 

"We'll talk first and then use the box."

"Oh, good," Shane replied in a grumble, glancing at the the spirit box with disdain. He really hated that thing. It gave him headaches and yielded the least compelling evidence he'd ever heard or seen. Better proof had come from his own ears, even if he could supply multiple logical reasons for the sounds. 

"Okay," Ryan began, "If anyone is out in this garden with us, please give us a sign that you're here."

Shane could hear the fear in the man's voice. Distantly, he was aware of his speeding heart, but he put it out of his mind. It was something he'd learned to ignore, rather than get distracted by. The false hopes it tried to provide ruined the 'ghost hunting' experience. 

"Dick Turpin," Shane began, throwing in his own encouragement for the spirits to come out and visit. "You're a criminal, and we are fascinated by crime! So, if you'd like, come out and show us what a real highwayman is like." 

Ryan grimaced, seeming to sink lower to the ground. "Why do you say things like that? He's gonna come try to steal our horse!"

"Relax, we didn't bring a horse."

"No, just a car. The modern day equivalent." 

"Shh, it's fine, Ryan," Shane laughed, leaning back on one of his hands as they sat there. When it had fallen quiet for too long, he shouted at the ghosts again, relishing in the fact that he startled the man next to him and made him jolt.

"Stop that!"

"Ghosts! Come do us harm!"

"Shane! Shut the hell up! Holy shit..." 

"I'm only trying to get you some proof," he said with a grin.

Ryan frowned, and dropped his voice low into the slow mockery he always claimed sounded just like Shane. "Oh, I just wanna get you your proof, Ryan. Catch the ghosts ripping my bones out on camera." 

"And yet, unfortunately, my bones are still intact. I cannot believe this," he said, sarcasm lacing thick through his voice. 

"I hate you," Ryan muttered, pushing himself to his feet and sweeping his flashlight across the area one last time. "That's it now, I'm done with being outdoors so see ya' later, ghosts." 

They still had to go back inside and see if there was some place that they could lock themselves up - in true Unsolved fashion - but Shane could practically feel the relief rolling off of Ryan as they began walking back towards the pub, away from the oppressing darkness of the garden. 

His pace overtook Ryan's , and he felt a quick breeze rush chillingly over his skin. 

He wondered why in books the world was described as 'slowing down' in moments of panic, because suddenly, everything seemed to be moving too fast to even comprehend.

A loud, frightful scream from behind him ripped violently out of Ryan's mouth, and with his heart in his throat, Shane spun fast on his heels. He'd normally be sent into a laughing fit to hear such a shout while they were on set, but something about the scream was so bone-chilling that he couldn't stand it.

Ryan was collapsed onto his knees with his chest curled downwards towards the ground, and Shane could see the quick, uneven pace of his breathing. His hands were splayed out, supporting his weight, but he was shaking at the elbows. 

Shane's heart was pounding as he stood, shocked stiff and unable to figure out what to do. He didn't even understand what was happening because, yes, Ryan was scared far too easily but he'd never reacted like _this_. 

His brain was overworking itself with a mantra of 'something is wrong, something is wrong, is Ryan _okay_?' He was generally a logical guy, but all of that had been thrown out the window as soon as he'd heard the scream.

Finally, _finally_ his limbs started to work, and he rushed forward, dropping to his knees in front of the man and throwing the phone he carried to God knows where. He wanted to reach out and touch Ryan; to make sure he was okay and alive, but Shane still didn't understand what had happened. He didn't want to make things worse. 

"Ryan," Shane whispered, his voice breaking as he spoke past the blood rushing in his ears. He was vaguely aware of the crew standing there, but they were lingering behind, leaving everything to Shane, and he was fine with that. "Ryan, Buddy, are you okay?" 

Ryan shook his head violently, but despite the negative reaction, Shane was relieved that the man had even responded at all. 

"Hey, it's just me, alright? Everything's okay," he murmured, trying to keep his voice low and even, doing whatever he could to comfort and calm the man without pressing too much and freaking him out again. 

He kept talking, his words a mess of comforting reassurance and ridiculous, nonsense jokes, voicing whatever he could force himself to think of in an attempt to get Ryan to just look up, or say _something_. 

Eventually, a deep, shuddering wrack of a breath shook Ryan's form, and he lifted his face to meet Shane's worried gaze. He was silent for a long moment, which seemed to stretch on for minutes before finally speaking. 

"Sorry," he whispered, offering the weakest smile Shane had ever seen but dammit, he'd take it. Anything was better nothing, and he was honestly just so relieved he could barely take it. 

Despite everything, he smiled back. "Can you stand up?" he asked, his hands lingering, unsure, in the small space between them. 

Ryan hesitated for a moment before he lifted his back, sitting up straight for the first time since he'd collapsed. Shane stood and held out one hand as an offering, and the man took it with a grateful smile, allowing himself to be pulled back up to his feet. 

Shane wanted to ask what had happened, but the words got caught in his throat. He didn't want to make a wrong move here. What happened could be figured out later. So, he simply worried at his bottom lip, keeping his mouth shut and waiting for Ryan to take the lead on what happened next. 

He didn't really think he could handle any more shocks that night, but suddenly he was being dragged forward as Ryan wrapped his arms tightly around Shane's waist, pulling him into an impossibly tight hug, despite the camera gear and mics they were both still wearing. He - rather belatedly - realized that his heart was still hammering, and wondered if Ryan could hear it. 

"Hey, are you sure you're alright, Buddy?" he asked, slightly nervous as he followed through with his end of the hug, pulling Ryan closer. 

They'd never done _this_ before. Comforting Ryan on their trips to haunted locales was something that Shane had needed to learn how to handle. He couldn't ever speak from experience, since he never found anything to be afraid of in these places, but the man easily hyped himself up on his own beliefs and freaked out at the slightest sound.

Shane had learned - perhaps too slowly - when to push Ryan further down that road for the content, and when to bring him back in order to preserve some semblance of sanity and save him from a panic attack. There was a line where, once crossed, it was no longer funny. 

He couldn't stop from being angry at himself now though, because he'd failed this time. 

Ryan slowly nodded against his chest. "Yeah," he muttered, repeating the same apology from earlier. 

"Don't worry about it," Shane replied, dismissing any apologies. 

They lingered for a few moments, but eventually Ryan slipped free from Shane's hold, taking a step back and nervously toying with the hem of his shirt. "Thanks," he murmured. 

"You doing okay now?"

"Oh, I'm just fine," he said, and Shane could practically feel the sarcasm. Well, he supposed that wasn't too much of a bad thing. At least Ryan was slowly getting back to normal. 

"What happened?" he ventured, too curious and still too concerned to keep the question contained any longer.

"Fuck, I don't know. You wouldn't believe me anyway, Mr. 'ghosts aren't real'."

"You saw a ghost?" Shane asked, his eyebrows raising. Ryan was right, he didn't exactly believe that, but he'd seen with his own eyes the effect that ... _whatever_ it was had had. "Was it Turpin?"

Ryan rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "Shut up," he grumbled angrily, tugging at the camera strap around his chest in what looked like a halfhearted attempt to adjust it. 

"No, I was serious! You said people saw him, right?" Of course, he was still doubtful, but saying so wouldn't help the situation at all, and it was sometimes better for him to just keep his mouth shut. Even if it hadn't been a ghost, it had obviously been _something_. 

Ryan was silent for a moment before he shrugged weakly. "I don't know, dude. I don't think it was him." Shane watched him as he fell quiet once again, glancing at their surroundings, and finally settling his gaze on their crew, who were lingering a short distance away, talking among themselves and probably trying to pretend that they weren't watching and listening in.

"I'm going to have to cut all this footage out," Ryan finally muttered, a tired frown on his face as he ran one hand through his hair. "I wasn't," he sighed. "I wasn't even facing the ghost, so my camera didn't catch anything," he finished, tapping one finger on the go pro affixed upon his chest. 

Quite suddenly - and maybe it had been Ryan's words that caused it, he wasn't sure - Shane began to laugh, loud and bold. He didn't exactly _want_ too, but there he was. He was aware that he was being stared at, probably with looks of confusion and disgust, but he couldn't really help it. 

After a long stretch of silence from Ryan though, the man began to chuckle too. "What the fuck is wrong with you, man?" he asked, but there wasn't any real anger in his tone, so Shane knew he was forgiven for the outburst.

And maybe Ryan understood, too. He always said that he was happiest whenever they were leaving these places, so maybe there was something to the rush of emotions that came after something frightening had passed.

Seeing Ryan like that had most certainly been frightening; more so than any horrors Shane had ever experience. Being unable to help, not sure what had even been wrong was terrifying, and he never wanted to be in that position again.

He didn't want Ryan to feel like that ever again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooh boy, what even is this? lol  
> I know I left this on a bit of a cliffhanger with what happened with Ryan, but it'll be covered more in the next chapter, so don't worry~  
> Uh, if you were curious, the Spaniard's Inn is a real place that is supposedly haunted, and I tried to make all information as accurate as I could (apologies if I did something wrong.)  
> Please let me know if you liked this chapter! I love reading your comments <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I'm sorry for taking so long to get this posted. Some assignments have been kicking my ass lately c':  
> On the plus side, you get to see Ryan's pov this chapter, and I hope you enjoy reading it~

Ryan

~~*~~

For the first time, finally, _finally_ , that night, Ryan was able to truly relax. They'd foregone the usual shtick of locking themselves in cramped spaces in order to, as stated by Shane, 'preserve whatever was left of his sanity'. And, despite the rather insulting phrasing, he wasn't planning on throwing out any arguments. Sure, he'd have to do something about piecing together their rather lackluster footage, but he was confident that the editors would help him out where he needed it.

Currently, he was leaning over a bar, elbows on the hard wooden surface, and both hands wrapped tightly around the neck of a beer bottle. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Shane, who had occupied the space next to him, giving him rather worried glances.

Still, neither of them spoke. 

The silence rang heavy, barely even filled by the noise of others in the pub. He could tell that the man wanted to say something, to ask for more details about what had happened at the Spaniard's Inn, but he kept his mouth resolutely shut for once, which Ryan was actually grateful for. He was still trying to figure out for himself what had happened, and didn't know what he would say if Shane _did_ ask. 

Eventually though, the sideways glances begin to gnaw at him. The night's memories were still too fresh in his mind, and he was three beers in - enough to loosen his own tongue, just slightly. He just needed to say something, to tell someone what he'd seen, even though Shane would one hundred percent not believe him.

"You've lasted longer than I thought you would," he accused, but his voice was quiet, and there was the slightest hint of a smile upon his lips that revealed the lightheartedness of the words.

Shane looked over, his eyes widened slightly. "What?" he asked, causing Ryan to chuckle.

"I figured you would have asked me about what I saw by now," he explained with a shrug, taking a large swig from the bottle he was clutched on to. It felt like an anchor, holding him down to reality.

Knowing that Shane was next to him, was _concerned_ , helped too. 

The man shrugged, his fingers tapping lightly against the bar. "Didn't want to freak you out," he replied, speaking carefully. "Do you - do you want to talk about it?"

Ryan desperately did. But, at the same time, part of himself wanted to bottle it up - to keep what he'd seen tucked away and eventually forgotten. After all, he was a firm believer in the supernatural, but Shane still wasn't, and he had no proof that could even possibly begin to change his mind. 

All he had on his side was a sudden panic attack, but what did that say besides the fact that he apparently had a fragile psyche? 

He still laughed though. He laughed, because Shane was looking at him like he actually wanted to hear what Ryan had to say, and it was somehow so endearing that it made his chest ache, and the memories from earlier that night felt less heavy.

"I - I don't know what it was," he began. "I mean, I know what I _saw_ but," he cut himself off with a shake of his head, sighing. "It was weird." 

"Well, what did you see?"

Ryan considered for a moment being cheeky, throwing out a simple 'ghost' for an answer, just to hear Shane's frustrated scoff of annoyance. 'Gee, I never would have guessed that', he'd say. 

"A woman, I think. She was in a dress, off to the side of the garden. Might have been the same one people have seen before," he explained with a shrug.

"What was she doing?" Shane asked, sounding intrigued. 

"Walking," he murmured, looking back down to his bottle again. He didn't like this part of the memory. This was when the fear had begun to set in. "Towards us. Or, well, towards you, actually. That's when I actually looked at her, but then suddenly I felt cold, and like I couldn't breathe, so I just-" he stopped there, waving his hand in a gesture to say 'and you know the rest'. 

Shane leaned back, a low whistle escaping from his lips. "What was she going after lil' ol' me for?" 

"Maybe she was finally going to take you up on the offer to bash your skull, or whatever you keep yelling at them to do." His tone was joking, but Ryan honestly hadn't enjoyed the experience of seeing a spirit approach Shane. And the man's absolute refusal to acknowledge anything supernatural meant that he didn't even _know_. He was completely oblivious, and Ryan had seen it all. 

"You really didn't see or feel anything in the garden?" he asked. 

Shane hummed, tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling in thought. "Nope, I don't remember anything weird. Just the bugs that probably crawled up my pants." 

If Ryan wasn't so familiar with how skeptical the man was, he would have been _astounded_. The woman - the spirit - had gotten so close to Shane it had seemed like she could have reached out and touched him. Maybe she even had. Ryan had collapsed by that point, too overwhelmed by the chill that froze his lungs, incapable of taking in fresh air. How had Shane not sensed ... _anything_?

"Hey, are you doing okay, though?" the man spoke again. "Still feeling spooked?"

Ah, he must have gotten a strange expression on his face. He nodded lightly. "It's better now." And that wasn't a lie, just so long as he didn't think too much about it all. It sat uneasily in his stomach, nerves aching through his bones down to his fingertips if he let the memories linger.

He'd get over it. He'd felt similarly after the Sallie House, after all. Just thinking about that place gave him chills, but that didn't stop him from ghost hunting. Whoever this spirit was, she wasn't going to hold Ryan back either. 

He wasn't a fucking wimp. 

He ordered another beer and carried on. 

And another, and another. 

And another. 

Beer wasn't exactly the best beverage choice if your plan was to get wasted; it took too many drinks and far too long. He hadn't exactly planned on getting so drunk in the first place, though. He'd originally just wanted to settle his nerves, but then had somehow ended up in a competition to keep pace with one another with Shane. That was a rabbit hole with a very far away bottom.

But, it helped. Shane was a fun drunk, as was Ryan, and when put together they tended to loosen up like loud and rambunctious teens who didn't know their own limits. As he downed beer number he-lost-count, ghosts and demons were the last thing on his mind.

They talked aimlessly with the flow of easy conversation between friends, the words smoothed by alcohol. 

"You can't compare the two, Ryan," Shane laughed. The words fell without any edge, and Ryan laughed, despite the fact that they were technically supposed to be having some sort of argument.

"Yes I can! They're a lot alike!"

"No! No they're not, Ryan." 

"I didn't say the plots were the same, just that parts of them were similar."

"Cloverfield is _so_ much better than Blair Witch, stop comparing them."

Ryan scoffed, as if he'd just heard something appalling, which, to be honest, he had. He and Shane might share the same love for movies and popcorn, but their opinions on said movies varied quite greatly. "No," he began, stretching out the word, "it is not." 

Shane feigned shock, clasping at his chest with one hand and leaning dangerously far back on the old bar stool, nearly sending it teetering backwards before throwing his torso forwards and regaining balance again. Ryan simply laughed, loud and jovial, at the sight. "And I thought we were friends," Shane accused, casting a frown down at Ryan. He would be insulted at the sight, but the glimmer in the man's eyes revealed his true meaning.

"I can't be friends with someone who thinks Cloverfield is better than Blair Witch," Ryan shot back, grinning. 

"Well then, I think we're done here," Shane said, moving as if he were going to stand up and walk away before Ryan grabbed onto his arm, effectively pulling him back down. 

"Sit down, you idiot," he laughed, pleased at the way an easy grin took over Shane's face, the smile reaching his eyes and causing them to crinkle at the edges. 

It looked ... nice. Shane looked nice. 

While sober, Ryan tried to allow himself only the tiniest amount of time to just ... _look_. It would be weird otherwise. They were friends, certainly not soulmates, so he forced any lingering thoughts about Shane out of his mind.

But now he was drunk and the man wasn't paying attention, so what was the harm? 

"I haven't seen Blair Witch in a long time," Shane finally said, leaning forward, resting his arms on the bar and tilting his head to the side to meet Ryan's gaze. 

Ryan blinked, a feeling of surprise washing over him. "Maybe that's why your opinion's so shit, huh?" he asked, unwilling to pass up the opportunity to tease. 

"Hey, hey, my opinion's good, thank you." 

Of course he would think so, the stubborn bastard. Ryan was never able to make him think differently on anything, no matter how important the subject matter was. They'd developed a whole show based on that fact, and it was irritating to no end. He wanted nothing more than to hear Shane say 'that might have been a ghost'. He didn't even need complete belief. Just ... _something_. 

"Debatable," Ryan chuckled. 

"Debatable," Shane mocked, upping the pitch of his voice in a poor mimic of Ryan, who certainly didn't have a voice that high. 

"Oh, shut up, you asshole." 

Shane stuck his tongue out like a petulant child and  _damn_ , they really were drunk, weren't they?

"Do you want to get out of here?"

"Are you propositioning me, Ryan?" Shane questioned, raising his eyebrows with a grin. 

Ryan had to pause, staring at the man for a long moment before a heat spread across his cheeks. "What? Hell no," he replied on instinct, brushing off the words and the effect they'd momentarily had on him. "I've just had enough," he attempted to explain, gesturing to the empty bottle on the bar with a clumsy wave of one hand. 

"Oh, yeah, okay," he agreed, gentle in tone as he stood up. Ryan let him this time. They paid off their tabs, and then Shane followed behind Ryan through the scattered pub crowd, out through the door, and onto the relatively quiet street. 

Their hotel was close enough, and the surrounding roads and sidewalks were calm enough that they made the silent agreement to walk, rather than having to wait for a ride to arrive, only to drive them a single block. 

Their gaits were clumsy, walking too close together and causing their sides to bump with almost every other step. They likely looked the epitome of drunks, laughing loud and boisterous at one another as they fumbled down the street. Ryan would attempt to reign the both of them in but, well, he couldn't exactly find it in himself to care enough.

He took a private pleasure in all of it, especially when Shane, tired of being knocked into, rested his arm against Ryan's shoulder to hold him close as they walked. He could feel the heat radiating off the man's body, and it made him duck his head, grinning to himself. 

"Shane," he said, an idea suddenly floating to the front of his mind, "we should watch a movie when we get back." They'd spent a good amount of the night discussing films, and the evening's energy didn't seemed like it was going to wear off anytime soon. "D'ya want to?"

Shane nodded eagerly. "What're we going to watch?"

"Blair Witch, obviously," he replied with a laugh, before shaking his head once, smiling softly to himself and tilting his head up to glance at the other man. "Or we could try to find Cloverfield?"

"Wait, really?" he asked, sounding genuinely surprised that Ryan would even suggest it.

He didn't like that.

"Yeah. You like it. I don't mind. Want you to have fun too," he explained, awkwardly clipping the words up into short sentences as he attempted to convey exactly what he wanted to say. He didn't want Shane to just go along with whatever suggestion he gave out. They did enough of that on Unsolved. Yeah, it was Ryan's project so he should technically be in charge, but he preferred thinking of it as a partnership. 

He didn't _want_ to always boss Shane around, and sometimes he felt as though the man was too lax and easy to mold. They argued and disagreed, holding firm to their own opinions, but one of them always ended up temporarily folding, whether by force or just giving up the fight. 

Lost in his own head, Ryan belatedly realized that his heart was pounding in his chest, and the unexpected rush of blood made him dizzy. He was suddenly very thankful that he had being drunk to use as an excuse, and Shane already close by to hold him upwards. 

The rush passed quickly as his body adjusted, though, and he wondered what they could have been doing.

It had simply caught him off guard. Ryan's soulmate tended to have a pretty silent heart. He often found himself feeling bad for them, considering what he did for a living, and wondered why they didn't go to the gym or something at 5 A.M. just to get revenge. To feel something so strong out of nowhere had been shocking.

"Ryan, are you ignoring me?"

"Huh, what? 'M sorry," he murmured, looking at Shane. "What'd you say?"

The man huffed in annoyance, but there was humor in his gaze. "You brought this up, y'know." 

Oh yeah, the movie. Cloverfield. Making Shane happy. He'd gotten so distracted by his soulmate that he'd forgotten he was in the middle of a conversation. He pushed the damn thing out of his mind in order to put his attention back where it currently mattered; Shane. "Well? Do you want to?"

"Watch Cloverfield? Absolutely. You'll watch it with me?"

Ryan grinned "Well, yeah? I asked."

"Just checking, since it's _obviously_ no Blair Witch," he said, squeezing Ryan's shoulder for emphasis as he poked fun.

His heartbeat, which had momentarily calmed, beat a bit faster again and Ryan was sure that it was his fault this time. 

"Shut up," he grumbled, earning only a laugh in response. 

They walked the rest of the way to the hotel, shuffling their way through the lobby and into the elevator. They moved rather quietly down the hall once they'd made it to the third floor where their room was located, trying to show some respect for their neighbors, but all bets were off once the door shut behind them. 

Ryan laughed loudly as Shane collapsed face down on the nearest bed, his feet hanging off the end because of his _stupidly_ long legs. He fumbled for the TV remote without lifting his head, and once he got hold of it, lifted it towards Ryan. "Find the movie."

"Can you even breath?"

Shane took a deep, shuddering breath in reply, letting the air out in a loud rush.

"Alright, smartass," he laughed, sitting on the edge of the free bed as he worked the remote. Shane eventually pushed himself up to a sitting position and bulked up the pillows against the headboard so he could lean against them comfortably. 

He couldn't manage to find Cloverfield, much to the disappointment of the both of them, but he did find Poltergeist, which was an agreed upon classic and always worth watching. They settled back against the pillows on their respective beds as the movie began to play. 

Ryan wasn't sure when, but somewhere in the first half of the film he fell asleep, and he didn't wake up until the crew was pounding on the door the next morning, only to be greeted by a bleary-eyed Shane. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment and let me know what you think~ I love reading them  
> (I'll double check this for mistakes tomorrow c: )   
> I'm hoping to get back to a once a week schedule now as well!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update you guys,,, ;; orz

They concluded their London filming session rather calmly - nothing nearly as exciting as the ghost at Spaniard's Inn came up - and then it was back to good old L.A. to start the editing process. Ryan was thankful that he really loved Unsolved, because it honestly took up almost all of his time, whether it was researching, filming, or editing. Shane got off easy, he realized, and the thought always made him chuckle. 

He leaned back in his chair, listening to the creak as he stared at the monitor screen. He'd been attempting to make some sort of progress, but the episode didn't seem to be coming together the way he wanted. It seemed too disjointed and uninteresting.

With a sigh, he saved what he'd managed to do, before minimizing the program window. Procrastination never lead to progress but, well, he could find _something_ to do that would still count as work. 

After all, he was at Buzzfeed. The internet was their stomping ground.

He pulled up the BuzzfeedBlue channel page on Youtube, and scrolled to the playlists, locating Unsolved's own. If he wasn't able to edit the newest episode, he could at least see how the older ones were doing.

He didn't ever broadcast doing so, but it was probably really obvious that he kept close tabs on his own series. Besides taking comments from Facebook and Instagram for each of their question and answer episodes, he often went back to older seasons and checked the comments on each video.

What were people thinking? What did they like, and what did they hate, even months after the release? Ryan liked the feedback, even if most of the comments were nonsense, or hate, or generally uncritical. 

He appreciated them all the same.

Well, maybe not the hate, but he knew how to cut his own losses, and took what he could get, not even bothering to make a fuss about it.

He looked through the playlist, and selected the Vulture Mine episode at random, listening to video's sound - his and Shane's voices - in his headphones as he immediately went down to the commenting section. 

It had been the first episode of that season, so a lot of the top comments were just welcoming the show back, along with a few expected, singular (wheeze)'s. Predictable, but it still made the corner of his lips turn up in a small smile. 

He scrolled past the first few comments, all of them nice, but finally halted over one in particular that boasted over one thousand likes with 35 replies. 

_'ryan's soulmate must be pissed at him being scared all the time lmao'_ , it read. Frowning lightly, he clicked to view the replies, and began scanning through them.

_'at least they don't stay the night this time'_

_'lolol they probably fuckng hate him!'_

_'Guys, don't be dicks. I'm sure they don't hate him'_. Ah, at least that comment was attempting to defend him. Ryan appreciated that. 

_'would u want ur soulmate to have their heart going crazy for hours at a time?'_  

_'i'd be damn annoyed :/'_

He sighed, finally just forcing the page back up to the top, centering on the still-playing video once again. Of course, it wasn't the first time he'd read comments about what his soulmate must think regarding his fear of - yet extreme proclivity for - the supernatural.

At first, before Unsolved had gained much popularity, they had been questioning about if he knew his soulmate. Now that it had been confirmed he didn't, the comments turned to speculation. 

He couldn't really say that he was particularly mad or upset about it, though. The internet did as the internet did, and he often thought the same things anyway. It was his own heart, but he would likely be mad too if his soulmate couldn't ever seem to calm the hell down. 

Still, it felt ... _different_ having strangers point it out. It was worse. 

Logically though, Ryan knew that those comments didn't mean a whole lot. Having a soulmate and an irregular beat was just something the people who experienced it got used to - not that he could have much of an opinion on that. His soulmate's heart was as quiet as Ryan's was loud. But, that was probably a good thing. They couldn't both be erratic. They'd never get a break and would likely go into cardiac arrest or something. 

How ironic would that be?

But, Ryan's soulmate was the perfect evenness that he actually appreciated having. Yes, sometimes he wished it was more frequently that he felt their rhythm, but it was nice just like this. 

He still couldn't help but to think about it. What if they did hate him? It's not like he could do anything if they did - he couldn't command his heart to beat slower - so he tried to hope for the best. If they were his soulmate, they wouldn't dislike him before they had even met, right?

Ryan sighed, and closed the browser tab, leaving the editing program staring back at him. He didn't feel any more inspired than he had when he'd stopped working on it. 

The sound of footsteps approaching from his right made him look up, and he saw Shane walking towards the desk he occupied next to Ryan, one styrofoam cup in each hand.

"Coffee?" he asked, holding one of the cups out towards Ryan with a raised eyebrow. He only stared for a moment before taking it.

"Thank you?" Ryan asked, his tone inflecting upwards in confusion. He was grateful, one hundred percent, but it was unusual for Shane to bring him surprise coffee. Usually he asked first, if he happened to be heading in that direction for his own drink. 

Shane seemed to only shrug the thanks off as he sat down. "It's not poisoned," he said with a chuckle. 

Ryan frowned down at the cup. "I'm concerned that you feel the need to tell me this," he said, taking a sip of the drink anyway. It was hot, but not so much so that he would burn his tongue. Shane watched him carefully.

"My plan is working," he mumbled in what Ryan had coined as the 'evil scientist' voice.

He snorted, carefully setting down the cup and wrapping his hands around it, feeling its warmth. "You wouldn't poison me." 

Shane only shrugged again. "Sometimes," he murmured, trailing off, but a small grin revealed how fake his act was. It only made Ryan laugh more. 

"You ass," he accused, bringing the cup to his lips again. "But if you're not poisoning me, what's with the coffee?" 

He was faced with a mix of emotions at the question. First, surprise. Briefly, something akin to fear. And finally, Shane seemed to settle on some sort of feigned offense and confusion. "What do you mean?" he asked, and Ryan didn't allow himself to stop and analyze the man's expression.

"You never just bring me coffee," Ryan explained matter-of-factly. It was nice, a good gesture, and he really shouldn't question it. He should accept it and bask in the feeling of Shane just giving him coffee on what appeared to be a whim, but well, Ryan wasn't good at letting things going unanswered. 

Shane was silent for a few moments before realizing that his innocent act wasn't working. "You looked like you needed some, so I didn't bother asking," he explained.

Ryan smiled. "That's sweet," he couldn't help but tease. Absentmindedly, he noticed the slightly upbeat pace of his heart, but didn't pay much attention to it. It didn't feel like it was his own, but it probably was, considering Shane's actions, so he ignored the beat. 

"Just coffee. It wasn't that sweet," Shane grumbled, spinning in his chair and putting his focus on the computer monitor before him. Ryan didn't let him get away with it. He didn't want to be ignored just because he'd called the man out on his heartfelt gesture. 

"I bet you're excited for ghost hunting this weekend, right?" he asked, taking another sip from his coffee as if it added emphasis to the question.

"Oh, I'm delighted as always, Ryan," Shane said, his voice monotone and bored. "Where are we going again?"

Ryan didn't take offense to the fact that he'd apparently forgotten. It'd been a while since they'd discussed this location, and although they had travel plans for it in place already, he didn't really expect Shane to keep track of it all. "Portland. To the saloon?" he said, attempting to trigger the memories, simply so he wouldn't have to explain it all again. 

"Ooh," Shane hummed, recognition dawning on his features. "Your demon location for the season."

"Right," Ryan agreed with a nod, chuckling nervously. He was getting used to it by now, but he still never really liked going to those places. Normal hauntings were fine - scary while he was there, but easy to get over. Demons were something else. They left him with an anxious dread building in his stomach the week leading up to filming, and a shaky, exhausted fear the week after they finally leave. He was thankful for often being so busy. It gave him less time to think about it.

"Make sure to keep track of your holy water," Shane teased with a playful wink. "Don't want the spooky demons getting too close."

"As long as you stay away from me," he replied. 

"Ryan," the man chided. "The demons won't hurt you." 

"Says you, who doesn't even believe in them."

"Exactly." 

"Normally I'd argue, but you're kind of lucky," he chuckled, only a little bit bitterly. 

Shane frowned though. "How so?"

"You don't send two people into cardiac arrest every time," he said with a shrug, tilting his head downwards to focus his gaze on the coffee cup, still secure between both hands. They didn't normally talk about soulmates, and honestly, Ryan didn't know what had prompted his mind to even consider it. Maybe reading comments was a bad idea after all. Now he'd made the whole conversation too real and too personal again. He felt nervous and shy, like after the ghost phenomenon at the Spaniard's Inn. He knew that Shane was his friend - best friend even - but that didn't stop him from feeling as though he has going to be teased, or judged. 

He didn't want to feel shy around Shane. He didn't want to be afraid to talk to his closest friend, who was probably the one person he trusted the most. 

"What, your heartbeat? Do you really get _that_ scared?" Shane asked incredulously. 

"You know I do," he accused. They'd both been there for that panic attack. And, while it had most certainly been the worst, it wasn't the only one he'd experienced, either. 

Shane seemed to fall silent for a few moments. "I - yeah, I know," he murmured, suddenly sounding soft and subdued. Distracted. "I didn't really think about it, I guess."

Ryan's eyes widened, shocked. "You didn't _think_ about it?" He wasn't really angry with the other man. Shane had never given him a reason to be, after all. Sure, he teased and poked fun at the fear and panicking while on camera, but always stopped before he crossed any lines or went to far. Ryan appreciated it; the way he'd never asked, but always seemed to know whenever it was too much. 

No, he wasn't angry that Shane apparently never thought about the heart and soulmate issue. He supposed it was something the calm ones never had to deal with, whereas it was all that Ryan knew. _He_ was the one at fault for the heartbeat, but Shane was likely the one on the other side. Nothing to be blamed for. 

Shane opened his mouth to speak, but snapped it shut before any words came out. He seemed to consider something, and Ryan wanted to ask, but he kept quiet, staring at his coffee and waiting instead. 

"I wouldn't worry about it too much, man," Shane finally said with a shrug. When Ryan looked back up with confusion clear on his face, he continued, "about the soulmate thing, I mean. It's not like you can do much about it. Worrying's not going to help, either." 

"But it must be annoying, right?" he asked, unwilling to accept Shane's advice. How did the man expect him to just _stop_ worrying about it? That was no easier than controlling his own heartbeat.

Shane shrugged again, leaning back in his chair. "I guess it depends on the person, but I'm not annoyed by my soulmate's heartbeat." A small frown formed on his face, then he sighed. "Well," he began again, "sometimes I am, but it's mostly a frustration thing, y'know? If I don't know who they are, then what's the point of knowing their heartbeat? I can't help them if they're hurt or in danger, and I definitely don't want to know if _my_ soulmate's out with someone else because their heartbeat rises at one in the morning when I've got work the next day." 

He leaned forward in his chair then, taking a breath after his long spiel, and Ryan could only watch and listen in fascination. He'd never heard Shane talk so much about his own soulmate experiences before. 

"It's just unfair, right?" he continued, quietly, like it was a secret. "The way it all works? It seems like you know them so well, but you don't actually know anything at all. I'm not annoyed at _them_ , though. Not really. I guess I'd rather the active heartbeat than a silent one."

"So your soulmate has a noticeable heartbeat, then?" Ryan asked, even though the answer was glaringly obvious from what Shane had said already. Honestly, he just wanted the man to keep talking. To keep sharing the information he'd never learned before, despite how long they'd known each other, and how close as friends they'd grown in that time. 

"Always has," Shane hummed, taking a sip from his cup and not saying anything else. Ryan pushed for more.

"Are you older than them, or younger?" He knew by this point he was just being nosy, but he hoped that Shane wouldn't call him out on it. Knowing the type of person his friend was though, that was doubtful.

With suspicious eyes, the man answered, "Older, I think. Doctors said my heartbeat suddenly got too fast for my size when I was a kid. Why are you so curious about my soulmate, though?"

Ryan looked away, unable to keep a straight face now that he'd been caught. "Well, since we're talking about it already ... you'd just never said anything before."

Shane barked out a sudden laugh at the answer. "Not like you have, either."

"It's kind of private, isn't it?" That was the assumption Ryan always operated on, at least.

"Usually," Shane answered with a teasing wink. "It's fine, though. I guess I don't mind. Can I ask you something too?"

"I don't think I have as much to say as you, honestly," he admitted. 

"Ah. Quiet soulmate." It wasn't phrased like a question, but Ryan nodded anyway. 

"Yeah," he said in agreement.

Shane, once again, fell to silence for a moment. "Does it bother you?"

Ryan blinked, caught off guard by the question. "Having a quiet soulmate?" At Shane's hum of agreement, he furrowed his brow in thought. Did it bother him? He didn't think so. Of course, he didn't like feeling like he was constantly bothering his soulmate because he was the only one with such an active heart, but he wasn't upset by the fact that they didn't have one. 

"Not really," he finally answered. "I mean, sometimes I wish I felt something more often, but it's fine. Makes it more special anyways, right? When I do feel their heart." 

Shane grinned. "That's sweet, Ryan." 

"Shut up," he grumbled, unhappy with the obvious teasing and his skin flushed. 

"Never," Shane cooed in reply, the smile he wore making deep lines appear at the corners of his eyes. Ryan refused to admit how good it looked, or how contagious such a genuine look of happiness was. He couldn't stop himself from beaming as well.

"Anyway," Shane finally said, with a grandiose wave of his hand to change the subject. "Don't worry about your own heartbeat, alright? It doesn't really matter that much."

Ryan sighed. "I guess you're right." He wasn't really sure he believed the man, but Shane seemed to be officially done with the conversation, and Ryan wasn't going to force anything.

Shane hummed as he stood, shaking his cup - it sloshed in the way that one nearly empty does - for emphasis on what he was doing, and walked away from his desk, patting Ryan's shoulder once as he passed by. 

Ryan was then left to sit there alone, pondering his own thoughts and emotions. He didn't exactly know what to make of them, either. Shane's words had helped, but they certainly hadn't completely assuaged his concerns. If anything, they just left him curious about the other man.

It was true, generally speaking, at least, that people kept quiet about their soulmates. It just wasn't something casually discussed, even between close friends. Kids always pestered their parents - Ryan definitely had - and people went to their doctors with questions, but otherwise it was just one of society's ingrained taboos. Soulmates and their heartbeats belonged to one another, not the world. 

That didn't stop him from thinking about it, though. From wondering who Shane's soulmate might be. And after today, he would have a lot more material to consider. Now he knew what kind of heart the man was connected to, and he couldn't decide if it crushed his hopes, or built them up higher.

He'd harbored his crush for his best friend in silence for so long now that it almost felt as natural as breathing to push all the emotions down and feign ignorance of them. Uncomfortable, stressful, and painful, yes, but nearly natural nonetheless. 

But, Ryan had always assumed that Shane's soulmate had a quiet heartbeat, nothing similar to his own. He told himself that his friend would _obviously_ know if their hearts were connected or not if the beat was noticeable. They were together so often, especially at haunted locations where Ryan's heart would be pounding, how could he not? 

It was the reasoning he used to tell himself that they weren't soulmates. Shane was smart. Shane would _know_. And so, he never asked. He never acted on his baseless crush. He had no _proof_. 

But then the man had to go and say things like that; that the heart he belonged to was actually loud, that he was older than them (a fact impossible for Ryan to ignore, since he was the youngest with four years separating him from Shane). His hopes took the small things that were in their favor and ran with them, building up a scenario in which maybe, _possibly_ , it could be him. 

It made him feel ridiculous, because he knew it wasn't likely, if not impossible altogether. Unless Shane was for some reason keeping quiet about it, wouldn't he have noticed by now that he shared Ryan's heartbeat? 

Speaking from firsthand experience, Ryan knew it was always pounding fast on set. Surely Shane would have put two and two together by now?

It wasn't like Ryan had anything definitive to go off of, either. If Shane was ever scared on set - unlikely - then his own heart was always already beating too quickly to even notice it. And, otherwise, he didn't usually feel their heart. He had nothing to draw from; to say 'hey, it's you!'. 

Part of him still wished for them to be connected. He fell back on his crush, his own personal desires that he was too cowardly to act on. 

Another part of him though, didn't want them to be, because that meant Shane was hiding the truth of it. There was no way, if they were connected, that the man hadn't figured it out by now.

It left him at a horrible emotional impasse, not wanting to accept the truth of them _not_ being soulmates, but still hoping that they were just friends. 

He hated it, and he hated worse that he didn't even know how to ask. It felt as though, by now, that he had waited too long to bring it up, and he'd gone and missed his chance as it passed by. 

Ryan groaned in frustration then, placing his coffee down on the desk with unnecessary force and dropping his head into his hands. He absolutely hated Shane. This was all his fault. 

"You alright there, Buddy?" Speak of the devil, there was Shane, having caught Ryan right in the middle of his inner turmoil. Perfect.

"Just fine," he sighed, straightening out his back and sitting upright again, as though nothing was wrong at all. He ignored the desire he felt to pester deeper into Shane's personal matters, and instead rolled his chair further under his desk, pulled on his headphones, and went back to the editing of the previously forgotten Unsolved episode with a new determination to finish the job. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~emotions~  
> next chapter is when the really exciting stuff starts happening, so stay tuned for that. c;  
> We'll also be heading back to Shane's pov


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all I am so sorry it took me so long to update this.  
> I enjoy this chapter a lot though, so I hope you do too <3

Shane

~~*~~

The week went by quickly - Shane might even say _too_ quickly - and it seemed as though the weekend was suddenly upon him. He and Ryan, along with the rest of their crew, once again packed up onto a plane so they could fly out to Oregon for filming. 

He couldn't deny being excited - the seasonal demon locations were always the most fun, since it was so easy to rile Ryan up with his taunting. But, he also couldn't ignore the fact that this time, there was much more on his mind.

Now, it was as though he could only think about Ryan and his heartbeat. Yes, he'd known before how scared the man tended to get when they went to these places - that was part of the fun - but he hadn't known how much that made him worry about his soulmate. 

Apparently, Ryan thought about it much more that Shane had believed. 

Shane would be the first to admit - in the privacy of his own home, and never out loud - that his feelings for Ryan strayed a bit far from the platonic side of the emotional spectrum. Of course, it wasn't something he'd ever brought up with another person, but it was there. He felt the tug on his heart every time the man smiled.

It hurt. 

It hurt because he couldn't bring himself to say anything, or to even believe he could have a chance. It hurt because whenever he thought that maybe, just maybe, Ryan might feel something too, he forced those feelings down because he was too much of a coward to take the chance and ask. Their friendship was too precious for Shane to ever risk, no matter the consequences. It hurt because Ryan had suddenly gotten curious and brave enough to prod into Shane's own personal experience with soulmates, as though maybe he'd been asking for a particular reason. But that couldn't be true.

It hurt.

He sighed, rubbing at the corner of his left eye with the heel of his hand. He leaned against the rental car, waiting for the crew to finish catching shots of the setting sun and give him the signal that he could finally step inside the bar they'd be investigating this time around. Ryan was out of sight somewhere, and Shane felt his absence, if only because the usual nervous energy wasn't around.

It was an old building in an old part of the city, and if Shane were to be honest, he wouldn't say that it looked like much. Besides the business the place still got as an active drinking establishment, he doubted much of anything exciting ever happened here nowadays. Certainly nothing demonic, as both Ryan and his _sources_ claimed. 

He tried to occupy his time by messing around on twitter, but was grateful when - finally - Ryan' footsteps approached. 

"Hey, man," he said, leaning against the car next to Shane, his arms crossed and one foot over the other, his entire weight resting on the vehicle behind them. 

"Hey," he replied, the corner of his mouth turning up in a grin as he looked at his friend. Ryan's hair was sticking up in all the wrong places, blown around here and there by the wind. It made Shane's heart clench, and he had to resist the urge to run his fingers through it and set it right once again.

It looked good the way it was, anyway. 

"We're almost ready," he said, tilting his head at the bar they'd be spending the next few hours in. Shane glanced upwards, where the sun was hanging low in the sky. It wouldn't be too much longer before it disappeared completely and cast them in darkness. He nodded.

"Are you _sure_?" he asked, his grin turned teasing and his eyebrows raised.

Ryan just squinted at him.

"That you're ready to go inside," he clarified. "Are you sure?"

"Oh, God, no. Not at all," Ryan finally answered with a small laugh. "But I've got to at some point tonight, so I might as well get it over with as soon as possible."

Shane nodded again, and remained silent. The response was so genuine that he couldn't even argue it. It was also entirely Ryan. The man was nothing if not determined to do whatever it took for this show, even if that meant risking a heart attack, apparently.

"I brought holy water too, so we're good," the man admitted with a bashful smile.

Shane scoffed, choking back a laugh. "Would you even be capable of using the holy water if a demon attacked you?"

He gasped, sounding practically offended. "What are you talking about? Of course I would!"

"Nah, you'd just be like, uh," he paused, bringing his hands up in front of his face as he crouched lower, rounding his back in an attempt to appear smaller before speaking in his crude imitation of Ryan; "oh no, demon, please don't hurt me, ahh, I'm too young to die-"

He was cut off by a rough slap on his shoulder. "I don't sound like that, you fuck," Ryan laughed. 

Shane dropped his hands and rose back up to full height again, pleased at the reaction he'd received, even though he'd basically expected it. "At least you don't have to worry about spending the night at this one, right?"

Ryan scoffed. "Only because the owner wouldn't let us. You'd have been all for it though, wouldn't you?"

He shrugged. Honestly, the thought of sleeping on the hard, cold ground with nothing but a sleeping bag never appealed much to him. He definitely preferred when they were in hotels with beds. Ryan was right though; he would have done it, but only because he recognized the fact that there would be no harm in it beyond an ache in his back and shoulders the next morning.

They kept each other company until it had long fallen dark and finally, _finally_ they got their cameras and microphones equipped and were given the 'okay' to head inside and filming began. 

As they approached the doorway and took the first few steps inside, chatting aimlessly about demons and ghouls like usual, Shane felt a nervousness creep into his chest and settle deep in his stomach. He glanced over at Ryan, who already looked like he was beginning to sweat, and swallowed thickly. To see his friend shaking with fear was nothing new, and in fact he expected it.

To feel fear himself? Shane almost immediately forgot it in favor of just how incredibly shocking it was. There wasn't even anything to be afraid of yet. They'd only just walked inside, and the only spooky thing they've seen was the sheer amount of liquor bottles lining the back wall behind the counter. 

When no cameras were pointed in his direction, he placed a hand on his chest, feeling the way his heart pounded rapidly against his palm. Whether it was him or his soulmate - Ryan or someone else, it didn't matter. Shane took a deep breath and let his hand fall, determined to give it no further acknowledgement. 

He didn't believe in supernatural energy, or whatever the hell this was any more than he did ghosts, or orbs, or the fucking zombie plague on Roanoke Island. He'd obviously just eaten something bad earlier, and his poor choice was finally deciding to catch up with him. 

"This place is uh, kinda scary, isn't it?" Ryan asked, interrupting his own thoughts and drawing Shane's attention back to the present.

"Are you really expecting me to agree with you?" he replied, shining his light up towards the ceiling to have a look as they slowly walked through. Like usual, nothing spooky. Just a lot of water stains and dropping of the old wood and plaster from over the years.  

"You could," Ryan suggested, but Shane just shook his head with a chuckle.

"I don't think so." 

"You really don't feel creepy in here?"

Shane did, but he shrugged it off. "Nah, not really. What is it that we're supposed to be scared of, again?"

"A demon, dude," Ryan answered, his eyes wide as he waved his flashlight around, as if even mentioning a demon would materialize some sort of evil entity right in front of them. 

"What kind of demon? Like the Goatman? Goatman's cousin?"

Ryan turned to face him with narrowed eyes. "What? Do you - do you think all demons are related?"

He laughed. "Aren't fallen angels?"

"Not all demons are fallen angels, Shane." 

"Well what is this one supposed to be, then?" 

"I don't know."

Shane burst into laughter then, almost doubling over from the suddenness of it. He didn't know what kind of answer he had thought he'd hear, but it hadn't been _nothing_. "You don't know anything about it at all? How do you even know it's a demon?" 

"Psychic reports."

He snorted. "What exactly are they reporting? Just that it's a demon? How do they know?"

Ryan frowned slightly, still erratically glancing around, but he focused his gaze on Shane before speaking. "They've apparently all sensed 'violence and death' in the basement, and it's reported to likely be from rituals, sacrifices, and a malicious presence." 

"Oh, so we're definitely going down there later, right?" he asked, in attempt to tease the other man, but his beating heart clenched almost painfully at the idea. The discomfort had long since settled into his bones, but he already didn't like the basement. Ryan, at this point, would probably rather die as well, but Shane knew next to nothing would stop him from at least giving it a try, even if he fled immediately afterwards. 

"Fuck, we are going down there, aren't we?" he asked, and the terror was obvious in his voice as it shook. 

The pace of Shane's heart was rapid, but he ignored it in favor of playing his part. "I'm afraid so, buddy!" he crowed, laughing gleefully at the pure horror in Ryan's eyes. It was fun, really.

They wandered through the bar, stopping here or there to check out specific areas and to listen to Ryan's recount of history. Tales of drinks getting thrown around, strange touches, and the whispers of those who had been shanghaied out of the place. 

Shane's favorite story was shared when they passed by the bathrooms, though. "Wait, wait," he interrupted, trying to not laugh so that he could actually _speak_. "The ghosts flush the toilets?"

Ryan grinned, obviously struggling to contain the fact that he found it somewhat hilarious as well. "Yeah," he nodded. 

"Toilet ghosts. That's unfortunate," he laughed again. "Did they die in there?" he asked, shining his flashlight over the stalls that stood beyond the door Ryan was currently holding open. 

"Maybe? I don't think so. What a sad place to die, though."

Shane shrugged. "People die in bathrooms all the time. At least they get to have fun with it."

"By flushing toilets for eternity?"

"Why not? Ryan, if you've got nothing else to do," he trailed off, shrugging, "why not do some mischief?"

"Well, why don't you try hanging with Moaning Myrtle in there for a bit?"

"Alright," he conceded, gently and carefully stepping around the other man and into the bathroom, throwing a look at the main camera once he'd made it through the threshold. Of all the 'spirits' he could try to trap himself in with, at least this one was kind of funny. 

"The usual two minutes?"

"However long you're willing to do after me," he teased.

"Two minutes it is!," Ryan immediately replied, letting the door fall shut and quiet the sound of Shane's chuckling. "Good luck, man."

"Thanks," he called through the heavy wooden door, and lifted up the phone he was holding so the camera would have a better view of his face. He held up his wrist to show the watch he wore, and tilted his head back and forth in the motion of a ticking clock, like he was counting down the two minutes. 

He was fine for the first handful of seconds, but Ryan was uncharacteristically silent outside, and the dark quiet slowly crept up, oppressive and foreboding. It felt as though he could hear his own heartbeat outside of his chest, and he belatedly realized that it was probably all the blood rushing past his ears. 

His palms felt sweaty, and when he heard a quiet bang on the other side of the wall, his shoulders jolted. "Everything okay out there, Ryan?" he asked. If it was just his friend out there stumbling around in the dark, then that was okay. That was familiar. 

When no response came, he began to worry. Generally Ryan didn't like to stray too far on his own if he didn't have to, unless he thought that something was wrong. "Ry? Did the ghosts get you?" he called, louder this time, and attempting for a joking tone.  

The seconds ticked by, far too slowly, and Shane's foot tapped impatiently. It was too dark to read the face of his watch, but time had to be up by now, right? 

Suddenly, the door flew open, and if Shane jumped, then he hoped the cameras were all too shaky for anyone to notice. 

"I heard something," Ryan said, not bothering to wait and ask how Shane's lockup had gone. 

Shane raised his eyebrows. "What?"

"There was banging from over there," and as he spoke, he turned his body and pointed toward the back corner of the building where the old stairwell going up to the residence rooms, and down to the basement resided. "Like heavy footsteps or something," he continued. 

"Did you go check it out?" he asked, gently urging Ryan to take a step backwards because, honestly, he would really prefer to _not_ be standing in the restroom right now. As the heavy door slammed shut behind the both of them, Ryan looked up at him with wide eyes.

"Are you joking? Fuck no." 

"We need to go over there, though," Shane reasoned, still glancing over where Ryan had pointed. He didn't think the noise he'd heard while in the bathroom had come from the stairs, but it really could have been anything, and there was no way of knowing if nobody else had heard it.

"Well yeah, but I'm not doing it by myself."

"Go on, then. Right behind you," he hummed. He realized Ryan hadn't taken his turn to be locked in with the ghost, but Shane felt insistent and a bit ready to get this over with. It was a horribly annoying feeling, and he didn't know how Ryan managed to do this so often when he obviously felt at least ten times worse. 

The worry picked at his brain, leaving a feeling of dread that had seeped deep within him, but Shane was curious too. He was still skeptical of anything supernatural, that fact had been cut and dried a long time ago, so he was eager to investigate further into the building to see if there was any cause behind his off feelings.

He was going to be a little disappointed when they find nothing by the end of the night. 

Ryan lead the way to the stairs, Shane following close behind, and their filming crew a few paces behind him. They went up the stairs first, since the demon was supposed to be below in the basement, and Ryan was putting that off as long as possible for the 'grand finale'. 

"Up here was rumored to be a brothel," Ryan began, once they'd opened the door and entered the upstairs hallway. "So this is where you'd spend your time, right?"

Shane rolled his eyes good naturally at the jab. He supposed that he deserved it, having basically admitted as much on camera before. He stood by it, anyway. "Like I always say," he murmured, looking around in curiosity. "But it's only rumored?"

"Yeah, some say it was just hired prostitutes being brought up by the people who actually lived here whenever they wanted to celebrate payday or whatever."

"Did they bring the, uh, the ol' psychic up here too?"

Ryan hummed affirmation. " _Multiple_ psychics," he clarified, looking back at Shane with a sly grin that made his heart stutter momentarily, even though he knew its meaning was an attempt to gloat. "They sensed sadness." 

"Did someone die up here?"

"I only know one," Ryan replied, carefully pushing open the door to one of the old bedrooms and peering inside. "A woman was sick, and she died in a bed up here before the doctor even arrived to treat her. I think it was the room furthest down," he said, shining the flashlight down the hall as he spoke.

Shane peered down, and began walking that way, leaving Ryan to flounder after him. "This room?" he asked, stopping in front of the final door. When his inquiry received a nod, he opened it and stepped inside. 

It was, of course, reasonable to assume that an old building, especially one as old as this, would make noises here and there. It was completely unreasonable to assume that Shane would be bothered by such a thing. And yet, as he stepped upon a particularly loose floorboard, he jolted at the loud creak that resounded.

Ryan, who was standing directly behind him, gave a quiet gasp. "Dude, did you just scare yourself? Are you serious?"

The most surprising thing was that Ryan didn't sound proud or triumphant that he'd caught Shane in a temporary moment of fear. Instead, he sounded scared, and maybe a little worried. Shane couldn't help but to act defensive at the accusation, though, no matter the tone behind it. He was the one who was supposed to catch Ryan jumping just because he'd stepped wrong. 

"What, you're going to admit that a noise was just the floor and not a ghost? This is some serious role reversal," he muttered, aiming for a joke, but it felt like he'd fallen short. 

"I mean, I did see you step there," he hummed in reply. "Sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine, Ryan," he grunted, embarrassed that he'd warranted some form of concern, and ever more so that it made him _happy_ to be asked after. He walked forward, finally moving away from the door and further into the room. It was simple, clean and looked after, but impersonal. It obviously hadn't been lived in for many years.  

"There's nothing in here to signify what happened to her, but this is the place," Ryan said as the both of them looked around, cameras focused in on their movements. Shane felt hyper aware of them now that he'd been called out for being afraid. 

They hung around in the room for a bit, attempting to speak out and garner a reaction from the ghost of this woman - Elise was her name - and any other spirits that might occupy the place. Unsurprisingly, there was no response to their calls. 

With that fresh defeat, they wandered from room to room upstairs, with Ryan recounting facts and information as they went. When nothing exciting happened beyond more creaking floors, they headed back downstairs. Shane even conveniently remembered that Ryan hadn't spent his two minutes with the bathroom ghosts yet, much to the man's horror.

It was easier being on the other side of the door with the crew and the ability to have a flashlight turned on in his hand. The darkness didn't feel like it was trying to crush him into mush. When Ryan finally burst out from behind the door - after Shane had loosened his grip on the handle - they'd run out of things on the two upper floors to entertain themselves with.

"I think it's demon time!" Shane cheered, grinning wickedly at Ryan, who didn't even bother trying to hide his unhappiness at the idea. 

They shut off the cameras for a bit, checking out the batteries and replacing the ones that were running on low charge. As they lingered on the main floor, Shane kept a close eye on the stairway that descended into the basement. A part of himself wondered if he was dreading this as much as Ryan, if this heavy, oppressive anxiety was always clawing at the man's chest. 

No wonder he worried about his soulmate so much. Shane absentmindedly put his hand up to his chest and focused on feeling his heart's rhythm. It was slow, for the moment. the fear was there, but it was only in his mind as he stood around waiting for filming to start again. 

"I don't like this basement, Shane," murmured Ryan, who'd been fiddling with the camera normally affixed to his chest. 

"You already made it through the Sallie House. Can't be worse than that." 

"I think it is," he said, his voice quiet, as though he was afraid to admit it. "Worse than the Spaniard's Inn."

Shane looked over at him, his eyes wide in surprise. The Spaniard's Inn was something he didn't enjoy remembering. What Ryan had gone through there, the panic he'd experienced, had been worse than Shane had ever seen before. He hated remembering the sight of his friend curled up on the ground, barely able to breath, and how he'd been unable to do anything to help. 

The memories hurt. 

"Did you see something here?" he asked.

Ryan shook his head. "No. I dunno, it just feels different this time. I told you what I uh, what I _felt_ when I saw that ghost. It feels like that here, everywhere. It's been getting worse too."

Shane blinked, unsure of how to respond for a few moments. Shane could feel it too - the weight settled over his entire body, crushing him until it was hard to breathe. "Do you want to leave?" he finally asked, settling on the question that mattered the most. Unsolved was important to the both of them, especially to Ryan, but health and safety came first. Shane couldn't, in good conscious, let his best friend stay, knowing that he'd be going into a panic attack. 

"It'll be okay, I think. We can just go down there long enough to get some good clips, and then leave. Don't have to stay all night, remember?" Ryan asked, laughing nervously.

"Yeah. Right," Shane nodded, although he remained unsure. As if it wasn't enough that he was already unsettled, now he couldn't stop worrying about Ryan as well. More so than the usual amount, that is. 

Not enough time had passed before the cameras and mics were up and running again, ready for them to follow the dark stairwell down into the demon's lair of a basement. 

Shane silently volunteered himself to be the first to go, and he lead the way down, stepping carefully on the old wood stairs that looked that they hadn't seen maintenance in decades. He supposed it made sense that they wouldn't, though. According to both Ryan and the owner, they had no use for the basement in order to run the bar, so it sat empty. 

Hopefully empty.

He was distantly aware of the way his heart was beating, fast and loud. "Ryan, are you scared?" he asked, although he had no idea why.

"Are you insane? Of course I'm scared," the man immediately replied, and Shane hadn't really been expecting anything different. It was comforting, in a strange way though, to know that they both felt the same way in a haunted place for once. 

And, if he really wanted to cause himself more pain later, he could imagine that his heartbeat was so rapid because of Ryan, rather than it just being his own doing. The fantasy was a bit calming - the idea of them being soulmates, no matter how unlikely. That didn't matter now. He could face the consequences of his own imagination later. 

He finally stepped off the final stair and onto the hard stone ground of the basement floor. The air felt too warm, but somehow there were goosebumps rising on his arms. 

"Oh no, I hate this. Shane, I don't like this at all," Ryan groaned.

"It's fine, Ry. Just an empty basement," he replied, auto-piloting one of his usual responses that always seemed to walk the line between comforting and dismissive. 

They walked forward, deeper into the depths of the basement's darkness, shining their flashlights around and getting a better look in an attempt to orient themselves with the area. Of course, there wasn't much to get used to - there was still nothing there to really look at. Just one large, empty space.

Something flashed out of the corner of his eye, and he turned rapidly in an attempt to get a glimpse of _whatever_ it was, but there was only the blank wall.

"Whoa dude," Ryan exclaimed, "you see something?"

Slowly, he shook his head. "No," he sighed, relieved. "No, there's nothing there." 

"Are you alright, Shane?"

He turned to look back at his friend, raising an eyebrow despite himself. "Oh, never better. I love dark basements filled with dust and cobwebs." 

Ryan huffed, "Don't be an ass just because you're scared."

"I am _not_ scared," he immediately said, defending himself.

With a bitter chuckle, Ryan nodded once. "If you say so," but he sounded doubtful, and Shane was immediately more uncomfortable than he'd been before, and that was really saying something. It was bad enough dealing with his irrational fear himself. He didn't want anyone else to _know_ about it. 

He moved forward, approaching the farthest wall and leaving Ryan to remain close to the crew. As soon as he took the first step, he wanted to turn back around. The weight on his chest grew and grew, and it was as though he couldn't breath, even though he felt the air he was forcing in go down, rough against his throat like he'd run a marathon. 

He reached the back wall, and was almost positive that Ryan had yelled after him, asking if there was anything interesting to see.

He couldn't speak. His jaw moved, but his throat was closed up.

On the floor it was faint, any paint or ... other substances having been scrubbed multiple times in an attempt to remove them. It remain etched in though, as if carved by a knife into stone.

A devil's trap - an obviously recognizable one - was drawn on the floor, and Shane stood right before it, his toes almost breaching the curved edge of the outside. He'd seen ones drawn out before, but this one was far more intricate and complex, quite advanced compared to an 'average' one, if any devil's trap could be called average.

All of the darkness, the heaviness of his body, the ringing in his ears, the fear that had long ago settled deep into his gut, all seemed to originate from this one point. This one, perfect circle on the floor unnerved Shane more than anything else he'd ever seen. 

He hated it. He wanted to shout at Ryan, to joke and laugh that there really had been rituals performed down here, but no words came out. 

He stood at the end of the trap, and lost everything. 

He head swam, heavy fog settling over all his thoughts, all his perceptions. Ryan's approaching footsteps faded away, along with his heartbeat, even though it had been his only constant the entire night.

There was nothing but silence, and darkness, both so thick that nothing else existed anymore. 

He could almost remember being afraid, but as his own thoughts fell away into the nothingness after everything else, Shane's final memory was of Ryan's voice calling his name, and a familiar heartbeat pounding out of control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting serious now you guys,,,,  
> (fyi: the location I very loosely based this off of is The White Eagle Saloon in Portland. I took bits and pieces of ghost stories about it, and added a lot more of my own)

**Author's Note:**

> I live for soulmate aus <3  
> But, if any of you would like me to add something, such as a certain location, event, or even another au (demon!shane, anyone?) then uh.... chime off in the comments, I guess? lol
> 
> Anyway, I hope you've enjoyed this so far~  
> Tumblr: [Double00Mogar](http://double00mogar.tumblr.com)


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